Dragon's Tale: A Shrek Fanfic Novella
by draconic chronicler
Summary: The definative story of Dragon, beginning with her recuitment by Fairy Godmother to guard Fiona, and tells her largely untold story up until the ending of Shrek the Third and to continue as the official story is told in future sequels.
1. Introduction

**Foreword**

This is a _Shrek_ fanfiction that begins approximately a decade before the first film, and explains the intrigues and events that took the Princess Fiona far away from her parents and home in the Kingdom of Far, Far Away, and made her a prisoner in a tower guarded by a terrible fire breathing dragon for many, many years. This in fact is really the story of that most important, yet largely neglected character from the world of Shrek, the dragon called Dragon who saved Shrek and Fiona from certain death in the original film and went on to become the wife of Donkey and mother of the adorable mutant Dronkies. The work will eventually bring the reader up to the state of affairs at the conclusion of the third film, with careful attention to retaining both the distinctive "gallows humor"of the original films and remaining true to the established "Canon" of the Shrek Universe.

I give many thanks to Gadfly, whose tremendous knowledge and insights regarding the characters and world of Shrek have been of invaluable assistance in creating this work, as well as his continued words of encouragement. He certainly needs no introduction, but for those who are newcomers here, and are fans of Shrek, I heartily recommend his own Shrek fanfictions that are posted on and on his own website with it wealth of additional information, original artwork and links to relevant and related sites pertaining to all things Shrek.

**Copyright Notice**

Characters, places and situations from the motion picture _Shrek_ and its sequels belong to DreamWorks.

**Introduction**

The Shrek epic as a whole, is characterized by its clever role reversal of the classic medieval European fairytale. Thus in the world of Shrek then we see the seemingly "good" human ruler of a clean, ordered, Disneyesque kingdom portrayed as a Hitler-like dictator torturing and deporting the non-human, fairytale creatures of this world. Later we see the Prince Charmings and Fairy Godmothers as opportunists, oppressors and murderers. On the contrary, we see creatures like ogres and even dragons having feelings, and it is the ogre who emerges as the real hero. An even more unlikely hero, or more properly a _heroine_ is the dragon known as _Dragon_, who in the finale of the original production, saves the ogre and ogress from the evil human dictator who would have them killed.

For centuries dragons have been the most unredeemable of fictional creatures, and no wonder, for the supreme villain and epitome of evil in the Christian World happens to be the Great Red Dragon of Revelation that is named Satan. It is really not until the mid 20th century that we begin to see dragons portrayed a better light in both film and novels. We have the _Reluctant Dragon _of the Disney cartoon who would rather have tea with a princess than devour her, Custard the Cowardly Dragon, the the puppy-dog loyal dragons of the Dragonriders of Pern that would never harm a human being, and the equally saccharine _Draco_ of _Dragonheart_, and _Saphira_ of _Eragon_. But are these really dragons or are they just oversized, scale covered, winged wonder horses for human heroes to ride, as Trigger is to Roy Rogers?

Real dragons don't eat quiche.

Real dragons eat humans, or so the plethora of ancient and medieval legends tell us, and as the dragon character in Shrek unflinchingly confirms. We have then, in the character of _Dragon,_ one of the only recognized _good_ dragons of fiction that is not afraid to behave like a dragon, and this makes the character delightfully unique, and deserving to have her full story told, but not as a scaly vegetarian wonder horse, like virtually every other _good_ dragon, but as a proper man-eating dragon as she is portrayed in the films, or at least the first film, for _Dragon's_ subsequent appearances have been regrettably sparse, yet with no evidence she has become a Vegan Buddhist in the meantime.

I suspect there is an assumption among many Shrek fans that _Dragon_ is now a reformed, _good _dragon and only eats quiche, or whatever else all of those sissy, wonder horse, _good_ dragons eat instead of a proper dragon diet of humans. But there is nothing revealed in the subsequent films to substantiate this view. Therefore, the character called _Dragon_ presented in this work is the same _Dragon_ presented in the three films, a creature that delights in devouring people, with a diagram of the best cuts of meat in a human torso prominently displayed in her kitchen. And not all of her victims are villains perhaps deserving of such an awful fate, but rather, the best and bravest men of the realm, guilty only of the desire to save a helpless young girl would grow into a woman, all the while held captive by a frightening reptilian predator, though for at least some of her victims, the allure of marrying the princess and eventually becoming a king, may have been a contributing factor.

As with many fan fictions, new characters have been added, some that may bear resemblence to well known characters we might expect to be found in a fairy tale universe, though none that will alter the established canon established in the offical Shrek storyline. Like the original films, this work is meant to be humorous, and in both somewhat lewd and dark ways to be true to the original film, and with the same aim of continuing to satirize the fantasy and fairy tale genres that have made the films so entertaining.

The Great Red Dragon of Revelation seems to be no more voracious and terrifying than the Great Red Dragoness of Shrek, and the two might have made a handsome, and well-matched couple, save for _Dragon's_ unexpected crush on an endearing little talking Donkey.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter I, Fairy Godmother's Dragon Quest**

Fluttering like a monstrous, misshapen hummingbird in the shadows of an arch in the bowels of the decrepit castle called Dragon's Keep; the Fairy Godmother cast a discerning eye over the scene below her. Perfect, she thought, all the elements for a proper fairytale rescue scene were here. The castle itself looked suitably foreboding, made of dark basalt and in terrible disrepair, and sitting in a crater of bubbling lava to boot. To her left, a spiraling staircase wound up the tallest tower in the castle to just the kind of room a helpless damsel would be locked in, until the moment her handsome prince arrived. And there, snoring obscenely, and sprawled on the floor below was the _piece de resistance_, an enormous red dragon sleeping on a pile of treasure. The tableau was perfect, and if she could pull this off, her son would become the next king of Far, Far Away, the greatest kingdom in all of the known world. But would the dragon cooperate?

For you see, the Fairy Grandmother lived in the real world of pixies and princesses, ogres and dragons, not the absurdly unrealistic ones of children's storybooks. And in this real world, the brave knight didn't always slay the dragon and rescue the princess. In fact, as best as she could determine, knights in her real world, (or anyone else for that matter), never seemed to slay the dragon, as her careful research on these matters had actually revealed. And looking at it realistically, it seemed the feat was virtually a physical impossibility for the notion of a man with a sword defeating such an enormous, intelligent and deadly beast was as ridiculous as a rat killing a lion. In fact, the more she studied the facts about dragons, she realized how lucky the human race actually was, given that the real dragons of her world never seemed to steal princesses, demand virgin sacrifices or burn down villages. Aside from the occasional missing cow or sheep blamed on some transient dragon, nothing in the papers or official kingdom histories spoke of dragons threatening humans unless the dragon was clearly provoked first.

Now this was not to say that _death by dragon _wasn't still a common enough end among reckless young knights attempting to win a name for themselves by slaying one, or the fate of foolish and greedy adventurers that attempted to steal their treasure horde.

But the average person did not want to know about the grim reality of a dragon's impenetrable scales, it's brute strength, its cunning, consummate predatory skills, and the mysterious magical abilities that the terrifying and enigmatic creatures possessed. No, they didn't want these bothersome facts to interfere with their fantasies of saintly human heroes somehow prevailing over what was potentially the most dangerous creature of their world. Instead, they wanted fairy tale happy endings with triumphant, handsome princes and grateful, rescued princesses, and if she played her cards right, the Fairy Godmother had just such a real life version of one of these storybook classics all planned out to rival the most saccharine fairy tale fiction, and instantly catapult her son to the ranks of the greatest heroes in all the known world. But for the scheme to work it would require her gaining the trust and cooperation of the monster that lay before her.

In her right hand she held the ubiquitous, star-tipped magic wand of all fairy godmothers to the front and at the ready, in the unlikely event that the dragon should turn on her, though she was uncertain if her own magic could even deter such an enormous and ancient creature that probably possessed more magical ability than herself, though a less obvious kind that endowed these beasts with such an incredibly long life span, spewing fire, and as she pondered now with some concern, very likely the ability to deflect her strongest spells with impunity. In a flower embroidered carpet bag in her left hand at her side she held a well-known reference to this particular dragon which she had read time and time again on a dog-eared page of the seventh edition of _Frodor's Guide to the Top100 Hero Quests and Treasure Hordes in all the Known Kingdoms. _But she hardly needed to have brought it, for she had practically memorized the paragraph about this gloomy place and its resident dragon by heart. It read:

**Dragon's Keep - the Castle of Gorgeafatryx the Insatiable. (Five Stars)**

Located in the picturesque volcanic badlands to the north of Duloc, take

the Royal Post Road (Route 66) from Duloc's North Gate for seventeeen

miles when you will see a windmill on the right. At this point note the road

to the left to the Knight's Inn and Tavern, for which no visit to Dragon's Keep.

would be complete without. The Inn has been the traditional gathering place of

heroes and adventurers for centuries, prior to their consistently ill-fated encounters

with the resident dragon that lives just over the ridge, in the lava filled volcanic

crater. Many unsuccessful slayers have enjoyed their last meal at the inn,

selected from an excellent fine menu of hardy country fare. Festus Muldoon, the

proprietor, has seen the dragon on many occasions, and will regale both tourist

and potential dragonslayer alike with tales of the monster . A fine selection of

souvenirs, including post cards of the inn, castle and even the dragon are

available, as well as sock puppets of the creature made by Mrs. Muldoon, and

scales and broken tooth tips which the beast has shed. A Royal Post Box is

located by the inn's front door, which has served unlucky heroes well, allowing

them to mail to relatives their last wills and testaments before meeting the

dragon. For a modest fee, Festus offers his "Map to the Dragon's Keep", as

well as the famous, "Dragon's Best" brand fertilizer, harvested from the

surrounding countryside and acknowledged in horticulturist circles to be the

finest in all the known world. Festus promises a "prize" in nearly every bag,

claiming customers have found valuable amulets, gold teeth and jewelry that

were apparently ingested by the dragon along with their previous owners.

Dragon's Keep has been nominated the "Best Quest and Treasure Hotspot of

this year's edition of Frodor's Guide. Not only is it said that Gorgeafatryx

guards one of largest treasure hordes in the world, (indicating that she is well

advanced in age and undoubtedly senile), but the decrepit old beast is so fat and

disgusting that no self respecting male dragon has ever mated with her, thus

assuring the potential slayer that they can expect no other dragon to be in the

keep or come to her assistance. Nevertheless, we recommend all potential

slayers buy our essential companion volume, "Frodor's Guide to Monsters and

Monster Slaying Equipment" before entering her lair. There is a 2 guilder

discount coupon in the back of this volume."

As she scrutinized the reposing leviathan, Fairy Grandmother mused that there was probably some truth in the Frodor's Guide's assessment of the beast. She could see from her enormous size that the dragon must be at least 1000 years old, and possibly twice that. And she was also the fattest dragon she had ever seen as well, so knew she must have some impressive magical abilities in order to keep that tremendous bulk of hers airborne. It was obvious that the diminutive little wings folded neatly on her back could not possibly keep her in the air. Perhaps she had never mated, as the guidebook claimed, and feeling sorry for herself, tried to forget life's disappointments by eating prodigious amounts of food, exactly like so many of the distraught human women that were Fairy Godmother's major clientele. And then there was the dragon's strange fetish for human cosmetics, that she learned when one of the distributors of her own Fairy Godmother Brand, a subsidiary division of her beauty potions business, had requested bulk quantities of the stuff, claiming an eccentric female dragon was his best customer, and paid for the cosmetics in ancient gold coins.

And now she had seen it with her own eyes. The dragon appeared to be actually wearing lipstick, rouge and mascara, all applied with no small amount of skill. And what was bothering her about the slumbering dragon's eyelids? That's it, she gasped to herself, the beast had eyelashes! But she knew reptiles normally didn't possess them, so they must be fakes, or some kind of magic, the kind of beauty spells that she was quite the expert at herself.

She tried to rationalize the monster lizard's bizarre penchant for human ladies' makeup. Most dragons lived in natural caves, she pondered, yet this one had chosen a human-built castle. Perhaps she had been rejected by her own kind because of her obesity, and in her denial had chosen to adopt human culture, fantasizing that she is a human lady of high birth, living in her castle just like the princess she intended to introduce to this beast.

"This may just be easier than I thought", she mused, for the Fairy Godmother made a very good living selling potions and beauty aids to unattractive, often fat, and lonely women and was an expert in manipulating them. But she did not doubt the dragon was a shrewd, highly intelligent, and deadly powerful creature, and one she would not want to cross. But the rich, powerful, though insecure women whom she wound around her fingers were usually no fools either, and she was an expert at knowing their hopes and fears, and then telling her clients exactly what they wanted to hear. She already knew from the merchant that this dragon could speak and understand human language, though shy and soft spoken when speaking to humans. She would just have to feel the dragon out, one step at a time.

The Fairy Godmother was about to descend down and subtly get the dragon's attention, when she hesitated, and thought, now wasn't there some old proverb about "letting sleeping dragons lie?" Would the dragon attack her? She didn't believe it would, for the traveling merchant who sold the beast her beauty products said she behaved very civil and lady-like during all of their past transactions, though he, and everyone else who had ever visited the keep and left again, knew she was a confirmed man eater who apparently relished that meat more than anything else. But to those who knew her, it was widely held that she only devoured those wannabe dragonslayers and similar adventurers who invaded her home to steal her possessions and do her harm. The success of the Dragon's Keep Inn, so close to her lair, yet never molested by her, seemed to confirm she was not an aggressive monster, and the Fairy Godmother even mused if the dragon herself might be getting part of the profits from the thriving fertilizer business, shed scales and other souvenirs that the Guidebook mentioned were sold by the proprietor of the Dragon's Keep Inn.

She knew dragons had the keenest senses in the animal kingdom and probably a simple cough on her part would wake the dragon up. She began to descend when a movement at the edge of the treasure pile caught her eye. She was not the only intruder in the keep. The first movement now revealed itself to be a very large, and muscular man, sporting bare bronzed muscular legs and arms. A gold, woven wire headband fixed his long black hair, and he held an enormous two-handed sword richly decorated with runic inscriptions in the barbarian tongue of the North Lands.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Dragon and the Barbarian**

The barbarian stood close to the snoring head of the dragon, who seemed oblivious to the apparent danger she faced. He made a twirling gesture with his massive, two-handed broadsword, and six men stealthily emerged from the shadows on the dragon's left, and five more on the right. Each of them wielded some manner of vicious weapon from battle axes and swords to spears and halberds, and most wore some sort of armor, though it was clear they were not chivalrous knights or men at arms from some proper kingdom. They were a ragged and dirty, unkempt lot of hard case mercenaries and freebooters, who were perhaps even more skilled and dangerous fighting men than the noblest of knights. Strangely out of place among these cutthroats was a dark haired, slightly built teenager of perhaps seventeen years carrying no weapons, only a simple wooden wand. He wore a wizard's robe and unusual round rim, black-framed spectacles of a type the Fairy Grandmother never seen before. The adolescent magician stood at the dragon's feet, silently mouthing a spell which caused a sparkling electric blue vapor to emanate from the wand and descend over the dragon.

The Fairy Godmother was astonished at how fast this had all taken place. "Dragon, look out!" she shouted loudly, not so much for altruistic reasons, but because she had invested so much time in this project and needed the dragon for it to succeed. But she also thought this was a cowardly and despicable act perpetrated by a gang of violent, lowlife men on a fellow female.

A dozen angry pairs of eyes briefly flashed up at her but only for an instant, for now the die was cast and there was no turning back. They knew that if they did not kill the dragon now, they would probably all end up dead instead, and it was said that being eaten alive by a dragon was one of the most horrifying, painful and gruesome ways imaginable to perish.

But still the dragon did nothing but lie still and snore raucously. Could the boy-wizard's spell actually be working?

Another second, then two, then three; and now the bloodthirsty horde was almost upon the still prostrate, snoring dragon, seemingly oblivious to the danger. But Dragon had not been sleeping. She had heard and smelled the band of adventurers before they even crossed the footbridge that led to her castle, and slyly pretended she was asleep the whole time. It was one of her favorite hunting strategies, especially when confronted by a large group such as this. For at the last possible moment, she exploded into a furious mass of dreadful, eardrum-splitting roaring, fire belching, and flashing claws, teeth and tail spines.

The five men that had attacked her from the left, the side the dragon's head was facing, were instantly immolated in a sheet of white hot flame spewed from the monster's mouth. The instant her fire storm began, her right arm whipped up and over her head and her taloned paw snatched up the blade of the huge broadsword that the barbarian had pulled back to deliver a cleaving chop to her skull. Barbarian that he was, he would not die without his heirloom sword in his hand, as was their custom, so he clung to it with dear life as the dragon held him dangling harmlessly overhead. Just as this was happening, the dragon's huge and muscular prehensile tail, formed first into an arc and then into a virtual lasso, lashing out against the six men attacking from the right, and like some red scaled, black-spined python from hell, it tightly coiled around the struggling men. Like a judge's gavel, she slammed the entrapped men down on the stone paved floor, several times until all had their weapons shaken from their hands and their legs broken.

Almost instantaneously, every attacker save for the ineffectual teenage wizard, (who had only a sparkling stick and not considered a threat), was incapacitated or dying. Now the dragon stretched her head frighteningly close to the bespectacled wizard, still furiously chanting his spell, and deftly placed a claw of her free paw over one nostril, blowing a small but well-placed jet of fire through the other nostril that incinerated the wizard's wand, and burning his hand, he dropped a curious medallion that he had also clutched. The Fairy Grandmother noticed that the boy wizard desperately eyed the bauble as though it held some great importance. He bent to retrieve it, but before he could, Dragon scooped him up and he was quickly wrapped in a long gold chain that had lain within her reach on the treasure pile. He was cast aside to be dealt with later, and ended up with his head laying tantalizingly close to the magic amulet, though it mattered naught, for his arms were bound tightly against his body by the golden chain.

The men who had been set ablaze had run helter-skelter through the castle, collapsing into morbid heaps where they continued to cheerfully blaze until all that remained were charred skeletons in their fire-blackened armor. If Dragon did not have visitors to entertain, she would normally track down and gobble up the human torches while they were still meaty, juicy and usually alive. But even she found the bodies that had burnt away to nothing but ashes and bones to be bitter tasting, and of little nutritional value so she seldom ate them, but rather, left them where they dropped, thus decorating her castle with these macabre natural sculptures to demoralize future intruders. But one man had fallen to his knees close to where he was originally ignited, and like a happy child at a birthday party, Dragon inhaled deeply and blew out the flames. She flipped the man's helmet off with her thick tongue, and a nudge to the belly with her snout caused the front and back plates of his body armor to fall off as the leather straps had been carbonized by the inferno. She gently scooped the still furiously smoking and screaming body up in her jaws, swallowed him down, smugly grinned at her remaining prey, and when she saw she had all of their attention, coolly blew out a very artistic smoke ring.

The barbarian still dangled impotently from the massive two-handed sword that Dragon's right arm held high in the air to disuade him from letting go. He cursed the boy wizard, who now seemed to be an accomplice of the dragon, though he too had been captured. He shouted down to the teenager in his guttural accent, "You no vizard you vorthless leetell peese-aunt!"

This imprecation was probably a mistake, for it reminded Dragon that the source of the annoying voice was still dangling over her head and happened to be the largest and most appetizing of all of her prey that day. And while this great warrior was renowned for his fighting skill, and caused the death of many a man with that famous sword that had been given it own name, it seemed he was now reduced to nothing more than a tasty _hors d'oeuvre_, and the mighty sword he clung to was little more than a toothpick to the enormous dragon that gazed hungrily up at him. With no further ado, Dragon opened her huge jaws, and thrust the man and his sword deep into her mouth, as the Barbarian continued to utter curses at both her and the ineffectual young wizard. The reptile pursed her lips tightly around the blade forming an 'o' as if to deliver a kiss, and slowly pulled the sword back out, inexorably pulling the barbarian from his death grip on the weapon's handle, and soon to his oblivion in the black throat that yawned below him. A wildly grasping arm followed the sword through her lips in a futile attempt to retrieve it, but she slurped the errant appendage back in like a piece of spaghetti and nonchalantly tossed the precious and ancient blade onto a pile of similar rare and valuable weapons, each with a similar noble pedigree, and all supposedly imbued with magical powers, though none served their masters any better than this one against the ravenous beast whose iron-like scales repelled every human weapon. Dragon puckered her cheeks and sucked on the barbarian as though he was a big piece of rock candy, tasting and turning him about in her mouth with her tongue, eliciting further shouts of now muffled protests from the furious, and soon to be _ex-hero_. Then as everyone stared transfixed by the gruesome scene, they saw the skin under Dragon's throat suddenly pulse, and heard an ominous gulp. The reptile's other prisoners watched in abject horror, as the barbarian's struggling body became a quivering bulge, undulating down her throat beneath rippling rows of scales, to the tune of visceral gurgling noises. The Fairy Godmother thought his last muffled words were _"I'll be back_", but she really didn't think he would be, unless he meant _he'd be back_ as a fifty pound sack of _Dragon's Best Fertilizer_ of the type she had seen stacked in the corner of the Knight's Inn gift shop where she had bought a postcard earlier that morning.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Dragon and the Youthful Sorcerer**

Fairy Godmother suspected that Dragon was a classic binge eater, and would soon begin gobbling up everyone else in her clutches. But she was intrigued by the boy wizard and his medallion, so decided to distract the creature from her carnivorous intentions before the adolescent suffered the same fate as the barbarian. This was the moment of truth. She was taking a calculated risk but was confident she could blink out of harms way should the dragon decide to flame her or snap her up in its jaws. But she wanted her first impression to be one of complete trust in, and friendship with the killer beast, so she cautiously fluttered close to the dragon's head, cleared her voice with a small cough and said in a melodious voice, "Excuse me my dear, I hope I didn't arrive at an inconvenient time, and I do hope you realize that I am not associated with this band of brigands that have invaded your lovely home and tried to do you harm. And please allow me to introduce myself, my na…"

From the moment Fairy Godmother first spied the barbarian creeping up on the beast, all of the carnage and drama had transpired in a scant three minutes or so, and it was just now that Dragon first had a good look at the creature that attempted to warn her. As Fairy Godmother began her introduction, Dragon's eyes widened and seemed to brighten with pleasure as a wave of recognition swept over her face. She brought a taloned digit in front of her mouth, as if to tell the Fairy Grandmother not to reveal her name because she wanted to show the famous celebrity that she knew exactly who she was and that she was one of her greatest fans. Then Dragon unexpectedly grabbed the winged woman, but not like prey, but surprisingly gently and with great affection, hugged her close to her chest, as she began jumping with joy on her pile of gold like a giddy school girl, crushing priceless crowns and goblets that lay mingled with the coins and jewels, and shaking the very earth with her huge bulk. The prisoners held in her coiled tail were understandably perplexed, and hoped the fairy had placed some enchantment of madness on the dragon, though they soon found their hopes for this dashed.

Fairy Godmother slowly and politely extricated herself from Dragon's loving bear hug, understandably shaken, but very pleased with the surprising turn of events. She had hoped the dragon might be something of a fan, as so many women were who used her potions and beauty products. But this clenched it. The dragon was even more like the lonely, overweight women that flocked to her for comfort than she could have ever dreamed.

Dragon turned around and lurched into a small antechamber, oblivious to the screams and curses of the men trapped in the coils of her tail as their heads cracked against the building's support pillars as her tail whipped around the room.

With Dragon distracted, Fairy Godmother quickly fluttered down to the place the boy wizard lay, and snatched up the medallion that the youth so desperately wanted. She said to the youth, "My dear, you seem to have gotten yourself into a bit of a fix. Didn't you know that you can't put a spell on another magical creature fifty times your own mass?"

The boy replied, "No, I didn't. But the dragon seems to like you. Please, tell her I only joined these men today and didn't know they were planning to kill her. I thought I could keep her asleep long enough for them to take some treasure and for me to find my friends."

"Friends?" Fairy Godmother inquired, trying not to show her concern that there may be even more unwanted witnesses to this meeting with the dragon, that was supposed to be in the strictest secrecy.

"Yes", the young wizard continued, "a boy and a girl, about my age and also wizards. We were separated coming through the time portal, and may have wandered into this castle yesterday morning, looking for me."

Fairy Godmother put on her best face as a concerned matriarch and said "Time portal, why where are you from my dear?"

"We're from the future, six hundred years or so I would expect, and we're students together at an academy for wizards. I could have returned alone, but only I have the teleportation medallion. We have to leave together and I couldn't bear leaving them trapped in this time."

She held the amulet up by its silver chain and asked, "Do you mind telling me how it works, dear?"

The boy hesitated, and Fairy Godmother could sense some apprehension. She put on a cheerful smile, and said, "Now, now, my boy, don't you know who I am? The kindly grandmother's face, the wand with the gold star, and the wings? I'm a fairy godmother for heaven's sake, and if you can't trust a fairy godmother, now who in the world can you trust -- the dragon maybe?"

He deliberated a moment, then said with a forced smile, "I'm sorry, it's just that I've been through a lot, and I have a powerful enemy."

Fairy Godmother cut him off, "Quickly boy, she'll be back soon".

The boy shrugged. "Alright, since the dragon burnt my wand I'm stuck anyway unless you help me. The portal can only be activated if the medallion is struck by a blast of magical energy. I'm sure you could do it with your wand just as I could have, with mine if I still had it."

"Shhhh, she's coming back", whispered the Fairy Godmother, and she slipped the chain of the wizard's medallion over here head, and hid it between her breasts under her dress. The ground shook as Dragon thumped back into their presence, and Fairy Godmother quickly hovered up and away from the boy wizard.

Dragon had her arms filled with what seemed like a lot of trash that she dumped on her treasure pile and squatted there to show the objects to Fairy Godmother. There were a number of tubs and packages that held her brand of cosmetics, each emblazoned with the company logo, her smiling, matronely face. And then there were the magazines, all with her face on the cover, some were her own publication, _Dama Fortuna's World_, there were others in which her articles often appeared. In fact, the Fairy Godmother seemed to be an authority on all the womanly arts, from the love potions and cosmetics that brought her fame, to trend setting clothing, gourmet cooking, flower arrangements, and gardening. And of the latter, Dragon proudly held up an issue of _Better Castles and Gardens_, with an article on rearing prizewinning roses, that portrayed Fairy Godmother with a rake next to what appeared to be a large bag of fertilizer with the caricature face of a red dragon on the front.

Now Fairy Godmother never used the rake that she held in the woodcut illustration, and was not even aware that in the article she had endorsed _Dragon's Best _fertilizer. She actually knew very little about gardening or cooking, and hated making flower arrangements -- all of this was handled by her PR staff. And if the castle were not a smelly enough place already, with Dragon's natural reptilian musk, charred flesh, smoking bones, dank mold, and the gagging body order of filthy brigands who at a minimum, wet themselves in fear, a new malodorous scent assaulted her nose as Dragon proudly thrust into her face a nearly empty bag of the fertilizer that Dama Fortuna had spoke of so highly in her article, with her likeness on the cover, showing her idol that she too, was a famous lady celebrity.

"Yes dear, well of course I knew you were so famous, and your, umm, product is as well known as mine" (and this wasn't a lie, after the discovery of a priceless antique ring in a fifty pound sack that had once been the possession of a celebrated, though now missing knight who had last been seen at the Dragon's Keep Inn). Fairy Godmother carried on with her praise, "In fact dear, it is your great fame as both such a well cultured lady dragon and your great fighting ability that has brought me here to seek your aid and wisdom." And then glancing down at the youth wrapped in chains at Dragon's feet, she added in a whisper, "But it is a bit of a confidential and royal matter which we should discuss in private".

Dragon gave an affirmative nod and gazed hungrily at the boy, drooling gobbets of sticky saliva.

As Dragon's toothy muzzle game closer, the terrified young sorcerer gazed pleadingly into Fairy Godmother's eyes, and said "Please, ask her about my friends, you promised."

"Yes, your um, friends." Fairy Godmother fluttered close to Dragon's head and patted it gently to get her attention, saying, "Um dear, could you wait a moment, your guest here wanted to know if you might have met his friends, another boy and girl about the same age."

Dragon turned her head to acknowledge Fairy Godmother's request, then thrust it down to the wizard and carefully sniffed him. Then she reared on her haunches and grunted something in Fairy Godmother's ear.

Fairy Grandmother strained to interpret Dragon's statement and then repeated it for both Dragon and the boy to hear. "You say their scent is on his body, and yes you did meet them yesterdays morning."

Dragon nodded in approval, and mumbled something again in Fairy Godmother's ear.

Fairy Godmother continued Dragon's narrative. "You say they were a very nice, polite, and clean smelling boy and girl, and they seemed to know a little magic too, like this boy?"

Dragon shook her head in the affirmative and mumbled more in the fairy's ear, which she repeated back to Dragon and the boy. "They didn't try to steal anything or hurt you, like this one, but wanted to ask me about their friend, and now you see that it was this boy here. Is that right, dear?"

Dragon happily nodded again, and grunted more words into her ear, which Fairy Grandmother repeated, "You told them you had not seen their friend, but since they were so nice and clean and polite you invited in for breakfast?"

Dragon shook her head in agreement.

The Boy Wizard had been listening intently to all of this, and now sat up despite the chains he was wrapped in, and hesitantly asked the dragon, "Are they still here?"

A slightly puzzled expression seemed to momentarily pass over Dragon's face, but then she nodded somewhat hesitantly, but definitely with an affirmative head shake.

For the first time since he arrived through the time portal two days ago, the youth smiled and gave a sigh of relief. He looked into Dragon's big green, catlike eyes and said, "I am really sorry about this misunderstanding. I think you understand now that I wasn't part of this group of dragon hunters, (nodding to the desperadoes still trapped in her coiled tail), and that they made me come with them when they learned I was a wizard."

Dragon shook her head, "yes" again, smiled and gave the boy an affectionate lick with her huge pink tongue.

The wizard sputtered and pursed his lips because of the coating of dragon saliva on his face, then politely asked, "Madame dragoness, if its not too much of a bother, I would be very grateful if you would take me to my friends now."

Dragon smiled and eagerly shook her head in the affirmative. She reached down and gently picked up the young wizard, cradled him in one of her huge palms, and carefully unwound the heavy golden chain that had bound him, the boy grinning with relief that his horrible ordeal would soon be over and that he would be united with his friends. Then she gingerly pulled off his thick wool wizard's robe, and though he tried shrug her off for he felt more comfortable with it one, she firmly continued in her labor.

But when she quickly and efficiently pulled off his shoes with deft use of a thumb and finger talon, he began to get very concerned and yelled, "Stop! What are you doing?"

Dragon exhibited genuine surprise and concern over the youth's apparent distress, and since Fairy Godmother still hovered close to her head she cooed and grunted into her ear a message to relay to the boy. Fairy Godmother listened intently and partly through the lengthily tirade, here eyes widened in some surprise. The wizard attempted to leap from the dragon's palm when he saw the look of shock of Fairy Grandmother's face, but Dragon gently subdued him in a cage of sharp claws.

Fairy Grandmother seemed to have trouble finding her words, but after a moment she began, while Dragon stared down at the trapped boy, eyeing him with disturbing intensity.

"Um, well dear, I think we have a slight misunderstanding here. Mmmm, when you asked the dragon if your friends were still here, she did answer you truthfully but you may have gotten the wrong impression. You see, nowadays children don't come to a dragon's doorstep all washed, and polite, and volunteering to be a dragon's breakfast unless they are willing sacrifices. Now she admits this doesn't happen much anymore, but it was once a very common thing around here for hundreds of years. It was sort of a payment to the local dragon for protecting the kingdom..." and here Fairy Grandmother looked questionably to Dragon, who grunted something, and the fairy continued, " For protecting the kingdom against the ravages of other dragons."

An expression of utter horror had come over the young wizard s face as the reality of the situation became apparent.

Dragon continued grunting her narrative in Fairy Grandmother's ear.

Like a kindly Grandmother, the fairy explained what Dragon had said in the most pleasant way possible. "So dear, when you told the dragon you wanted to um, join your friends, according to the rules for this kind of thing, technically you volunteered to be a sacrifice too. So I'm afraid that's what's going to happen now, but so there wouldn't be any misunderstandings, and since you are a willing sacrifice, she seems very concerned that you know, that um, technically speaking, you are not actually going to meet your friends now in a physical sense, since, well, she ate them yesterday morning and by now their remains are, " and she paused a moment to find the right words Dragon had told her, "um their remains are somewhere between her large intestines and colon right now, and yours will be in her stomach".

Dragon happily nodded, satisfied that Fairy Godmother has said the right words. But an expression of concern was still on her face, so she crooned more words into Fairy Godmother's ear in hopes of cheering up the boy.

Fairy Godmother, listened, gathered her words, and then said to the boy in the most saccharinely sweet way a kindly grandmother possibly could, in order to allay Dragon's genuine concerns, "But she does want you to know dear that when you are all completely digested and converted into dragon fat that you will be together then." She realized that this probably wasn't exactly the kind of reassurance he wanted, so bereft of anything better to say, smiled, patted his tousled hair and said, "Well isn't that special?"

Dragon happily shook her head, pleased that Dama Fortuna had said exactly the right words, she smiled at the boy, gently pushed his spectacles back into place with a sharp black talon, (for they had nearly fallen off in the struggle), and with a gentle toss, she threw the boy high over her head in the great arched hall, taking care not to splatter him against the ceiling as sometimes happened when she engaged in this little sport. The cool air seemed to snap him out of his shock, and as he looked down he saw the dragons gaping maw quivering in anticipation for his descent. He screamed a long, horrified, "Nooooooooooo!" as the dragon expertly jockeyed herself under him, straightened her neck, and efficiently sent the wizard straight down her gullet and into her belly.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: A Deal With A Dragon**

Fairy Godmother was relieved that the young wizard could no longer be a threat to her plans. She felt the time travel medallion hidden under her bodice, and thought, "_Who knows, maybe this will come in handy some day_."

As the feebly struggling youth settled in her stomach, Dragon turned back to Fairy Godmother, plopped her enormous posterior on her pile of gold and gave her honored guest her undivided attention.

Fairy Godmother began with those time honored words, "Once upon a Time". "Once upon a time in the far away kingdom of Far, Far Away, the Good King Harold, and Good Queen Lilliane, had a beautiful baby girl that the named the Princess Fiona...".

Dragon loved these kinds of stories of beautiful princesses , good kings and queens, and rescuing princes, and unlike more conventional dragons who preferred natural caves, it was partly why she had um, appropriated this castle centuries ago from its tasty human inhabitants, whom she could justify eating because they were such murderous-minded hosts when she had simply dropped in for a friendly housewarming visit. Her appropriated castle home was just the place where she could live out her own fantasy of a handsome dragon prince who would someday come to sweep her off her feet. Dragons, though immensely wise never wrote stories themselves, and she so loved to have these tales read to her by her more literate human guests who proved more valuable in this capacity than simply becoming a soon to be forgotten snack. She could read of course, in a dozen languages or more learned over the centuries, but if she read the tiny print herself, as she dutifully did, concerning any article on health, beauty or etiquette written by Dama Fortuna in the women's magazines she collected, she could not bear coming to those inevitable parts, in these otherwise lovely human fairy tales, that were spoiled by absurdities like having a wicked dragon, (and who could imagine any dragon being wicked?), being absurdly slain by the handsome prince or knight, (and when did anything so ridiculous as that ever happen in real life?). The literate but unimaginative guests were still eaten if they were so cruel to upset her by simply reading the stories verbatim, with the terrible lies about dragons, but the cleverer ones knew just the right way the stories should really have happened, portraying the dragons in their true roles as friendly and beneficent creatures who grudgingly harmed only the very wickedest humans, and therefore were a boon to mankind. And these talented story tellers entertained her the rest of their pathetically short human life spans, though regrettably, most of those terrible humans who came to murder her and steal her possessions were illiterate, violent men, little better than food animals, and food animals they had become.

She regretted having eaten the nice boy and girl wizards the previous morning, for they seemed very bright and no doubt could have told her just the right kinds of stories that she wanted to hear. But she perceived they had come to her as willing human sacrifices so she felt obligated to grant them their wish, or the wishes of whoever may have sent them. Dama Fortuna had said they were from the future, so Dragon mused that perhaps people of those times wanted to please the dragons in advance because her kind lived so long and would eventually meet them, not doubt. She'd have to remember to thank those people, and hoped those might have been just the first of many nice, polite and clean boys and girls sent to her as sacrifices from the future. She also hoped that they would understand that she was not very good at making it rain and doing some of those other things that humans of the past sacrificed their children to win the favor of the local dragon, but she always strove to play her part in these old, time honored traditions impeccably well as was a dragon's solemn duty to the human community where it had taken up residence.

And now it was as if a dream had come true. Dama Fortuna herself had come into her home and was telling her a real story about a beautiful princess who needed the help of a sensitive, kind and considerate dragon like herself, so she listened to each word that the Fairy Godmother spoke with rapt attention.

Dama continued, "But the beautiful princess was the victim of a terrible curse, for each night at sunset she would turn into a horrible ogress".

"_How very sad_," Dragon thought, particularly so because she knew this was a real story, not just something made up by the fools who wrote fairy tales that thought dragons were evil creatures. Tears began welling in her eyes that threatened to ruin her mascara, and her worry for the princess suddenly made her feel terribly hungry again, so the coil of tail around her remaining attackers tightened reassuringly. Ever so slowly and quietly, so not to disturb the Fairy Godmother's train of thought, Dragon moved her tail and its human bounty to a convenient place next to her belly.

Dama pretended not to notice dragon's predatory intentions and continued, "And the good king and queen could tell no one of their daughter's sad fate, and had to keep her locked in a tower so it could never be revealed. For if it were known, the dragon-hating knights of the kingdom, who also hated ogresses, would surely kill her.

_"Aha, those evil knights"_, Dragon thought, and while the men trapped in her coil were not technically knights, most did wear armor, and she immediately snatched the most armored and knight-like looking one, expertly shucked off his armor without even looking, and quickly popped him into her mouth, hoping Fairy Godmother wouldn't really notice.

Obligingly , Dama Fortuna, pretended she didn't see it, and simply talked on as if watching a dragon devouring men alive was perfectly acceptable behavior and not worthy of the slightest notice, for now the most important part of the story was about to begin. "So the good king and queen asked for the help of a kind Fairy Godmother who would know just what to do."

Dragon knew Dama Fortuna was far too modest to claim she was the wise Fairy Godmother as she nodded in approval, surreptitiously gulping down the man in her mouth as she raised her head in the first nod.

"The Fairy Godmother consulted her many ancient books of magic and wisdom, and after careful study she discovered what would break the terrible spell."

Dragons eyes were riveted on the Fairy Godmother, as she deftly shucked the armor and boots off of her next victim.

"But in order to do so she must seek the help of a brave, noble, wise and beautiful dragoness!" the Fairy Godmother said loudly and triumphantly, fluttering close to Dragon's face for added effect.

Dragon's jaw dropped in genuine surprise, but fortunately did not inhale the Fairy Godmother in the process. "_Of course"_, Dragon thought, "_who else but a brave, noble, wise and beautiful dragoness could help?" _And as if to ponder the matter, she placed her hand over her mouth, unobtrusively stuffing the next man into her jaws, that she had skillfully palmed there. As she swallowed him, her immediate thought was eating the princess, since accepting young, clean and neat virgin boys and girls as a sacrifice was her standard, centuries old prescription to cure whatever ills of a kingdom that she so beneficently watched over in the good old days. But she quickly dismissed that idea as being decidedly non-conducive to the original aim of curing the beautiful princess of her curse. She could eat the wicked knights, that went without saying, but this would not be the end all solution as there never seemed to be a paucity of them. .

Fairy Godmother turned her back to Dragon, stroked her chin in contemplation, and said, "Ah but what, brave, noble and beautiful dragoness would so considerately volunteer to fly down the main thoroughfare of Far, Far Away, passing the most chic stores with windows full of the latest fashions, and then up onto the terrace of the Royal Palace, pick up the waiting princess, receive honored thanks and tribute from Good King Harold and Beautiful Queen Lillian, and probably would have to devour perhaps _dozens_ of treacherous knights who would either behead or burn the poor princess at the stake when they discovered she would turn into an ogress".

Dragon was becoming more and more excited with every word uttered by Fairy Godmother. Taking advantage of Dama's back to her, she decided to eliminate the remaining men wrapped in her tail so she could devote her full attention to the matronly Fairy's tantalizing proposition. Her prehensile tail crammed all three of them in her mouth at once, and in her haste she realized she had forgotten to remove their armor, and they clattered and clanked down her throat, terminating with a metallic crash as they dropped into her stomach.

Fairy Godmother then felt Dragon's hot, humid, and somewhat fetid breath pelt the back of her neck as the reptile in her excitement padded right behind her. Though this would undoubtedly disconcert the bravest knights, Dama Fortuna cooly continued her well- rehearsed narrative, knowing she had the dragon's complete and undivided attention now.

She gave a practiced sigh, and continued, "Of course, the brave, wise, noble and beautiful dragoness would have to have a proper castle fit to house a genuine princess, for the usual dragon's cave simply wouldn't do. And she would have to pick her clothes, and teach her lessons, and help her with her make up, and cook her food, and most important of all, she would have to protect the princess from who knows how many dastardly knights, who would constantly be trying to steal her away to suffer a horrible fate. In ten years time, there might literally be hundreds who would come..."

And to this Dragon licked her lips in anticipation.

Fairy Godmother then shook her head negatively, still as if talking to herself and said, "No, such a brave, wise, noble and beautiful dragoness would probably be too proud, and not a clever enough actress to finally turn the princess over to her one true love, who will kiss her and break the curse. He would be the best choice in all the kingdoms to marry the princess. And he would know he could never defeat the brave, wise noble and beautiful dragoness,, but if the Dragoness happened to be interested in a ROYAL appointment, in the fashion capitol of all the known world, she would have to pretend that the handsome prince defeated her in combat, and that she gave an oath of fealty to him and the kingdom. She would have to do that because otherwise all the foolish people would be afraid of her and she couldn't do her royal duties, that King Charming and Queen Fiona would so much want her to do, like Royal Princess Guardian, for the will surely be many little princesses in time, and who could be a better guardian than the dragoness who guarded Princess Fiona for all those years?"

Dragon eagerly shook her head in approval.

"And then there is the appointment of Royal Executioner. I don't think a day goes by when there isn't several criminals that must be eliminated, and such a waste to just bury them afterwards, rotting in the ground, when a brave, wise, noble and beautiful dragoness could take care of everything so much quicker and more efficiently in her dragonish way. And finally", and at this point the Fairy Grandmother turned around and stared into those unnerving reptilian eyes, "Dama Fortuna herself would want to show her undying gratitude to the brave, wise, noble and beautiful dragoness, because Prince Charming is her only son. And Dama Fortuna is quite renowned for her love potions as a well read, brave wise noble and beautiful dragoness knows. And when the dragoness safely returns Prince Charming and Princess Fiona triumphantly on her back to Far Far Away, amidst cheers and fanfare, and takes her official Royal Appointments, then between Dama Fortuna's magic, and the magic of the dragoness herself, they are sure to come up with a potion that would make that already brave, wise, noble and beautiful dragoness, absolutely irresistible to the most eligible and attractive male dragons in all the known world."

There, she said it. Dama watched as the predator eyes seemed to sparkle in delight, and a great grin spread across reptilian lips tastefully bedecked in her own favorite color of lipstick. Fairy Godmother grinned right back. "_We are much alike in so many ways, dear"_, she thought, but instinctively backed away as the dragon's increasing grin began to reveal the rows of white wicked teeth.

Dragon was positively thrilled with the whole proposition and was amazed how Dama Fortuna knew exactly what she would want. In her mind it was an extremely one sided deal with everything in her favor. She was lonely, alone in her castle, and was elated to have a genuine princess for a companion. She envisioned they would have a wonderful time helping each other with make up and listening and telling stories. She also welcomed the idea of more wicked knights coming into her home to steal the princess. She feared no human, and while she had a full belly of foolish, greedy adventurers today, this was not a common occurrence anymore. She admitted she was a slave to her gluttony. Fewer and fewer treasure seekers had been coming over the past few years, so her hunger forced her to leave the castle to hunt, and she also knew she was very lazy and preferred food coming to here, rather than flying about the countryside trying to find it. There were plenty of people and their herds of animals in the surrounding countryside, but she actually loved the human culture, and hated to devour anyone who had done her no harm or wasn't a willing sacrifice. It even bothered her to eat their livestock, but she was a large carnivorous creature and required appropriately large quantities of meat to sustain her bulk. She would always leave money if hunger forced her to take a domestic animal from some farmer, but hated to give up her gold as well for hoarding was part of her nature.

She could be a good actress, and pretending to be defeated by Dama Fortuna's son really didn't bother her. The idea of becoming the _Royal Executioner and Princess Guardian _appealed to her greatly, for it brought her into the elite human society of the royals that so fascinated her, and while the criminals she would devour were not her particular enemies as the humans she now consumed, they were undesirables all the same, who by their own laws and codes had to forfeit their lives. She would keep her castle and her treasure there, for humans were such short lived creatures and she could not say how long this Prince Charming's dynasty would even last. Besides, the exercise flying back and forth to check on her hoard every few days would do her good, and she knew that humans were so greedy they would try to take it all if she were gone, and it would take weeks to get it all out of the castle and across the rickety foot bridge, which she would take away when not at home anyway.

She also knew Dama wanted her in the Kingdom for more than as a princess watcher and executioner. These were simply thing to entice her to come. The real purposes was that she wanted the dragon as a powerful weapon of war, loyal only to Dama and her son. In her long life she had seen great human empires rise and fall, and now in the current age there were only these petty feudal kingdoms continuously battling between one another, and who would ever challenge a kingdom guarded by a dragon?

.And then there was the love potion. She had eaten dozens of wizards, witches and sorcerers who had tried to kill her with their magic, the most recent was just settling in her stomach. For no matter how many spells a person could memorize, the magic itself came from the psychic energy of the magician, and the resistance to it, from the psychic energy of the creature the magic was being used against. No creatures had as much psychic energy as a dragon, and the heavier the dragon the more psychic energy she had. She doubted the fairy godmother could produce magic that could effect her, but then again, what if it were good magic that she wanted to absorb? It might be worth trying, but then again, if male dragons refused to court her because of the way she looked now, did she want one to love her only because of a deceptive magic spell?

"_Pshaw"_, she thought to herself, "_All the male dragons I ever knew were such pompous asses, and I think I would sooner love an ass who was an ass, if he truly cared for me, than a dragon who was an ass, who only wanted me as a slim and trim trophy mate."_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Five: Dragon's Road Trip to Far, Far, Away**

"_Today is the big day,"_ Dragon happily thought as she leaped off the highest battlement of her castle towards the lava below. But she did not drop far and caught the thermal updraft that helped lift her high above Dragon's Keep. It had been exactly a week since that eventful day when she had captured and devoured the large group of adventurers, and met the famous Fairy Godmother Dama Fortuna. True to her word, she was now on her way to pick up the _Lovely Yet Tragic Princess Fiona_ in the Kingdom of Far Far Away.

She had not eaten since that day a week ago, which is not unusual for a dragon, particulalry after so prodigious a meal, but she now hoped she would find something to sustain her that morning, for it was a very long flight in store for her, and she meant to make the trip back on the same day, for she would have a young princess in her charge, and wanted to bring her to the safety and comfort of her very own room in the highest tower of her castle.

A dragon's eyesight is as acute as any eagle's, probably more so, and as the flying reptile glided in the currents she scanned the ground below her for the slightest movement. She detected a number of rabbits and squirrels, and even a badger, but couldn't be bothered with such small fry. Then over a mile away she saw larger prey, traveling away from her on a crossroad. It was only a small detour to take a closer look, so she banked right. In moments she was over a farmer leading a young donkey. Now they saw her, but there were nothing but cabbage fields on both sides of the road, and nowhere to run.

Other dragons might simply swoop down and gobble up the hapless pair, but this one would not harm an elderly farmer who had done her no wrong. So early in the morning, and the fact that the two were headed to the village market for it was market day, told her the farmer probably intended on selling the donkey there. Her stomach growled, and she thought that maybe she could save the man the trip. She always kept a few coins under her tongue to buy an unwanted farm animal when nothing else was to be had. The donkey was small but it was too long a flight to travel on an empty stomach.

She banked again so she could land directly on the road, so not to damage the crops, and now that the farmer saw the dragon coming directly towards them, so he dropped to his knees to pray, and the equally terrified donkey absurdly attempted to hide behind him. The quadreped poked the farmer in the back with a front hoof and said in a very worried voice, "S-say a prayer to me too, I forgot who the patron saint of donkeys is!" Then he yelled, "Jehoshaphat! Is that it?"

Dragon's excellent predator's ears heard the voice and she blinked in surprise. _"A talking donkey?" _She gave a disappointed sigh and banked left to resume her flight to Far Far Away. Just as she avoided eating humans that were no threat to her, she similarly refused to eat enchanted animals who had the same level of intelligence, and feelings, as humans. In a way, she was an enchanted animal too. As she departed she heard the donkey say to the farmer, "Did you see that? That thing backed off just when I said Jehoshaphat. I told you I was lucky. I'm a lucky donkey, just like a rabbit's foot only there's four of 'em so there's four times the luck. Noooo way you wanna be selling me today. Nosiree, what'll you do if the dragon comes back and you don't have your lucky donkey? Or maybe I'm a blessed donkey, that could that be it. Being blessed is way better than being lucky. I'm protected by Saint Jehoshaphat. I reckon being blessed is even better that being lucky, ain't it? Now ain't it? Hey, but maybe I'm both lucky and blessed. You remember that time you were going to trade me for those magic beans and..." Thankfully the donkey's voice faded off as Dragon flew on, and she wondered if the farmer might have actually _paid her _to eat the beast and rid him of such an irritating traveling companion.

Her detour now caused her to fly over a swamp to make up time, a place she sometimes hunted when not enough slayers and treasure seekers sought her, and ended up sating her hunger instead. Like all of those other times she had passed this way, she debated again if she should eat the young ogre who had made the swamp his home for almost seven years now. And again, she dismissed the idea, for ogres were sentient creatures just like humans, and though larger and stronger than humans, in a way, they were less of a threat to her than them. For ogres did not have the greed for gold that caused men to try to steal her hoard, nor did they have the desire for fame as the knights who foolishly came to slay her. In fact she found it amusing how much the humans hated ogres when they almost never caused them any harm, and in this respect, saw how much ogres and dragons were alike. The humans despised the ogres because the were such primitive creatures, living in rude huts or caves, but her grandfather, a very old dragon indeed, had once told her that when he was young, the humans were more savage than any ogre, wearing nothing but rude animal skins and their only tools were of stone or antler. In some respects she believed ogres had more sense than humans. When this one came to the swamp, he seemed only to have been a decade old child, and if he had been a human boy so young in such a hostile environment, he would have surely not survived. She heard the ogre still snoring in his hut, for the sun had not yet risen. He was usually in bed when she hunted this territory, usually at night or at dawn, and she believed the creature was probably oblivious to the fact that such a deadly huntress had passed so close to him, and so often.

Following the main road to Far, Far, Away again, her stomach continued to growl as she passed over a herd of milk cows in a pasture below, but she dismissed such bulky prey today, for even if she used the coins under her tongue to pay for the meal, eating a cow was such a messy business. They were too large to swallow whole like a man or a deer, so she would have to stop, kill it, and tear it into manageable pieces to swallow, usually about three or so. And then her beautiful white teeth would be stained, and some bit of entrails would invariably become stuck between them, and would be terribly embarrassing when she met Good King Harold and Beautiful Queen Lillian at noon that day. She would also become spattered with gore with no time to bathe, and worst of all, tearing into a cow would ruin her carefully applied lipstick, that took almost three hours to apply, and caused the untimely deaths of two hundred and thirty three individual tubes of both Dama Fortuna's and her own favorite color, _Cherubic Cherry_. The unlimited supply of free cosmetics the Fairy Godmother had promised, that would come with regular shipments of food and clothing for the Princess, was the final coup which Dragon had made in her negotiations with Dama Fortuna when their deal to guard the princess was struck a week ago.

The Sun began to peek over the rolling eastern hills, and several miles ahead, coming her direction and presumably on their way to nearby Duloc, was what appeared to be a huge shimmering steel serpent, its scales reflecting the dawn's early light. But her sensitive nose betrayed it was no great reptile, but stunk of the sweat and funk of horses and men. She bared her ivory teeth and licked her lips in anticipation for these were not just men and horses, but the glittering sheen that first seemed to betray the armor of a great land-borne silver wyrm was in fact the steel armor of a column of knights. Knights! who because of their centuries-long enmity against dragons were the only humans besides explicit sacrifices that she never balked from devouring on sight.

The air was perfectly still, and a wicked thought crossed her mind. The poor-sighted humans had not seen her yet, and she grinned mailiciously as she gained altitude over the marching column. She was now glad she had taken such a long drink at the beginning of this journey that had almost drained a large duck pond. Ancient creature that she was, she was an expert at such calculating maneuvers, and at just the right moment gallons and gallons of hot, foul smelling amber liquid was released into the atmosphere with such precision as to shower the complete column of over 300 men and accompanying baggage train.

Some moments before the impending precipitation, the horses of the column began reacting to some invisible terror. Equine eyes widened in fear and nostrils flared as the creatures strained to find and escape a terrifying predator that they all smelled, but could not yet see. The proud column that had been moving on Duloc with such marital impetuosity now ground to an erratic halt as men vainly strained to control their mounts and baggage animals.

Captain Hieronymus Farquaad, stood tall in his saddle and cut a dashing figure at the head of his personal army. He was an adventurer and mercenary from the Southlands and had come to this region to win a kingdom. His spies informed him that the small Dukedom of Duloc would be easy pickings because of an inheritance dispute between two sons of the late Duke. He would offer his services to the highest bidder, destroy the weaker and then usurp his employer. He was not of noble birth, but once he established his power base he planned to marry into a royal family and obtain a noble title. He actually eyed the gem of the region, the larger Kingdom of Far Far Away, but is was still too strong. But he had plenty of time, for he was only twenty nine years old and the captain of an impressive company of horse and foot.

Although men around him were thrown from their mounts, or hung wildly to them as they ran out of control due to the unknown terror that gripped the horses, Captain Farquaad was able to keep his seat and maintained his dignity. As the lead man in the column, he was first to feel the curious, unseasonally warm rain as it pattered his face, the only part of his body not sheathed in steel plate and mail. _"Odd",_ he thought, for the sky was clear. He looked up and saw nothing at first, but craning his neck around he saw a monstrous apparition in the sky just as men around him began to scream _DRAGON! _If the scene had been chaotic before, it now erupted into sheer pandemonium, as Dragon leisurely banked around and lowered her altiitude for her second sweep over the road, but this time at almost ground level. "_Leaders first",_ the reptile thought to herself, and focused on the large man in front on the best horse and wearing the most expensive armor. Dragon had successfully used this tactic in capturing mounted men for centuries. With the horses panicked by the dragon scent, the men on top of them were virtually helpless, with both hands needed to control the reins, and all of their attention devoted to staying on and controlling their mounts, they could not even draw their swords, (not that a mere sword could penetrate her iron-like scales to begin with). As for the infantry, in the few moments since the opening rain, there was no time to string longbows or cock crossbows, and although they were a small nuisance if they punched holes in her wing membranes, they could do little more damage, as her scaly hide deflected them. But the infantry were as terrified as the cavalrymen and horses. Instead of stringing bows, nearly every one had packed themselves under the three baggage wagons. Legends told of both dragon blood and saliva being deadly poisonous, and no one could be sure what horrifying properties the dragon-produced fluid on them now would have, apart from the gagging odor.

Farquaad cursed his men for their cowardice, until he looked forward again and saw the airborne leviathan coming directly for him up the road. He was too paralyzed with fear to draw his sword, and could not do so anyway, for his horse now saw the beast whose scent was so terrifying, and bucked in terror, and turned to flee. Faaquaad thought this the best course of action as well, but no sooner than the horse was turned than he felt a powerful force grip his torso that would have crushed his rib cage if it had not been encased in an excellent steel cuirass. He heard a terrifying shriek to his right and saw his standard bearer, still clutching his personal banner with the fancy emblazoned "F", held in the dragon's other front paw, just as he must be. Dragon was a bit perplexed by the weight of the leader she held in her left talon for he seemed far too light in weight compared to the one held in her right talons. She craned her head down to get a closer look, blinked in surprise, and then looked down at the horse which still had attached to its saddle the leg armor of a large man, that the short legged person in her claws wore only to appear taller than he really was. Her terrible teeth were only inches from his face, but instead of devouring him, he heard a soft, oddly feminine voice distinctly say the questioning words, _"A_ _midget knight?" _followed by what seemed like schoolgirl giggling, as he was tossed away in disgust like too small a fish, and even before he landed, the monster had expertly snatched another, larger rider in his place, and after another wing flap, deftly seized two more men with her rear feet, also from the backs of terrified horses.

Farquaad hit the ploughed earth of the field with a dull thud. Had he not been wearing the cuirass, with a well padded arming doublet underneath, his back might have been broken by the fall. He, and all of the rest in the company watched in relief as the dragon nonchalantly flapped away, not even giving them the dignity of a back glance. A screaming man writhed from every clenched paw, and they all thanked God the dragon had only four of the appendages, for nothing in their power could have dissuaded the beast from taking more of their number if it were so inclined.

Dragon was enormously pleased with her good fortune. This was a breakfast she could eat on the go, and lose no time. And she could relieve the monotony of the long flight as she methoically removed the armor and clothing of her prey bit by bit, leaving a trail behind her like the breadcrumbs of Hansel and Gretel, one of her favorite fairytales because it was a witch, and not a dragon, who was the villain. She could have destroyed them all with her fiery birth, but that would be such a waste. The presence of this unfamiliar army in this region indicated another war would be coming, and human wars alway meant good eating for dragons.

These were all hardened soldiers, accustomed to death, and once it was apparent the dragon was not coming back, the men began whispering and then chortling how the dragon had _thrown back _their diminutive leader to take a more substantial man in his stead.

Captain Farquaad sensed the mirth at his expense, and unobtrusively slipped his sword from its scabbard. Before any man reached him to lend assistance, he stood, flourished the blade at the supposedly retreating dragon and boasted, "Ha, that demon made a grave mistake when it decided to make me its prey. It tasted my steel and I pray the wound I delivered upon it was a mortal one".

More than one soldier burst into laughter at this absurd remark, though Farquaad could not determine who the culprits were, for they had their backs to him. And now he regretted attracting so much attention with his proud pronouncement, for too many men now stared down at his lower extremities with mirth in their eyes and the barest traces of grins on their faces, for when he looked down himself, he was mortified to see that his red linen arming hose were stained a highly conspicuous darker color from his own urine. He did not doubt many others had similarly befouled themselves, and with far less reason than he, who had actually been in the monster's very clutches, but unlike them, whose stains of dishonor were masked by manly steel plate and mail, he alone appeared in mere undergarments, for the legs of his armor, that had given him the appearance of a man of great stature when nobly mounted, (to the point of even enticing the dragon), where still in the stirrups of his saddle, on his horse, which like so many others, might be miles away by now.

Though mightily thankful that he still lived, Captain Farquaad was furious. A full day, maybe two would be lost in reorganizing his men, catching the terrified horses and removing all traces of the dragon scent on their bodies before they could mount again. And the martial splendor of his command that he envisioned would so impress the leaders and inhabitants of Duloc as he made his grand parade through the city, would never be the same. Already his beautiful armor, and that of all of his men, had oxidized a rusty brown wherever the dragon's caustic yellow water had touched it.

He wished to exact some revenge on the beast, but was too much of a realist to believe he could. That's why he still lived, when so many of his contempories were dead, for he was a true survivor. Once he became Lord of this place he would immortalize his version of the days events, perhaps commisioning a magnificent stained glass window in Duloc's town cathedral of him battling the red monster, or maybe a huge monument of the ficticious battle carved in eternal granite, that would eventually serve as a sufficiently heroic tombstone to honor his greatness. _"Or why not both?"_ he mused, for he could simply tax the populace to pay for these, and any other extravagance once the fools were under his thumb. _"Years from now",_ he mused, _people will believe whatever __propaganda I created for them to believe. for it is human nature to want to believe in larger than life heroes. Perhaps this is how all the dragon slaying legends were born"_, he wondered, for he had never seen a dragon's mounted skin, severed head, or anything else to prove that men had ever really killed one. If it ever came to him meeting a dragon again, he would coerce other men to fight his battles.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6: Dragon's Royal Audience**

Queen Lillian had recalled it had been only six days ago at that very table, that Dama Fortuna had told them of her visit to the dragon, and now, in perhaps only a few minutes, (if the beast were timely), it would arrive on the very terrace where they now sat, and take their daughter to her new life. She dreaded meeting the creature despite the kindly Fairy Godmother's assurances that everything would be fine. She had made everything sound so wonderful. Dama said the dragon loved children, (though she did not tell Lillian it had two in her belly and ate another during her interview with the reptile). Dama said Fiona would love the dragon just like her stuffed dragon toys, (but did not say the dragon was usually _stuffed_ with humans she had devoured). Dama said the dragon was a capable housekeeper and cook, who had hosted and fed numerous other human guests in the past, (not elaborating that they all eventually "fed" the dragon). Dama had said the dragon even had a fully furnished tower, with a beautiful canopy bed and all the other necessary furnishings, that she had made into a kind of doll house, where she kept her cherished collection of princess dolls.

Lillian tried to forget her apprehensions, and glanced at the clock tower in the square below her and said to her daughter, "Now Dear, the nice dragon should be here in just a few minutes, and I don't think she will stay long. Is there anything else you want to talk about before we say our goodbyes?"

The little princess just pouted and said nothing.

Sitting on a marble bench on the terrace of the palace with her husband and king, Lillian watched the elderly Nanny as she made the final adjustments to her daughter's elaborate costume. The ten year old future queen was bedecked in a formal party dress, in a cut intended for a woman of high rank, and not a child, with the odd, cone shaped headdress that the more fashionable and wealthy women of Far, Far, Away wore. Yes, she was overdressed for a little girl, but this whole event was something like a play, and Fiona's role was the princess. And besides, the way Dama Fortuna spoke of the dragon, she seemed to be something like royalty herself, if such a thing were possible for an animal. She seemed to be richer than her and Harold, and theirs was the greatest kingdom in the land. But the beast owned a fine castle and was even something of a celebrity. Having one's likeness printed and displayed throughout all the known kingdoms was an enviable accomplishment for anyone of the fairer sex, and the only woman that outdid the dragon in this respect was Dama Fortuna herself. And Lillian thought that while all of her lady friends would love to be pictured on the cover of _Mademoiselle_, having their likeness on a sack of their own excrement did not strike her as completely ladylike, but fame is fame she suppposed. And on that thought Lillian chose to make small talk with her husband to break the unbearable tension, for in just a few more minutes the huge dragon herself would arrive and take their daughter away to a new and uncertain life.

"Dear", Lillian asked of her husband, "do you think it would be improper if we asked the dragon to um, _deposit_ some of her famous um, fertilizer, in our rose garden? You know, I have had my three bags on backorder for months now, since that article in _Better Castles and Gardens _spoke so highly of it. You'd think the creature would be more cooperative in this matter for after all, I'm the Queen of Far, Far, Away."

Harold put down his paper, and said with a sigh, "I don't think she actually _does it_ as a business venture, Lillian. They say she sleeps on a hill of gold and jewels, so its not like she needs the money. It is my understanding the fellow that runs the Knight's Inn just goes about the countryside collecting the stuff where she drops it. I've heard that it is not all genuine dragon er, fertilizer anyway, some of it no doubt, but most is probably just regular cow manure. Having the dragon's picture on the bag is just a gimmick if you ask me."

"And what about the valuable rings and jewelry they find?" Lillian asked.

Harold's brave attempt at holding his composure crumbled. "Yes, what about it? I guess it just proves we are the most worthless parents in the world because we are about to hand our daughter over to a man-eating monster!" he said in despair.

Lillian angrilly quipped back, "Why it was you who talked me into it, Harold. Such a crazy thing. What is it that Dama Fortuna could hold over you?"

Harold mused to himself , "_Only the fact that I'm really a frog, my dear_", but said with tears in his eyes, "We've agonized over this for nearly a week, Lillian. We can't change our minds now. Dama Fortuna has promised the creature much to do this, and if we refuse the monster now, God only knows what it could do to us, and the whole kingdom."

"We could fight it Harold", Lillian said softly as she gripped his arm.

"Oh we will fight it, alright", Harold angrily quipped. "Dama expects me to give the beast a few expendable men so this looks to all the world like the dragon really kidnaped our daughter. But I'm no a fool. Only fools believe that nonsense about brave heroes slaying dragons. Dama Fortuna won't risk her son. He will probably come back with the monster in tow as their personal enforcer. I don't know how, but I think she can manipulate the dragon just as she manipulates everyone in the kingdom that has some use to her."

Lillian was becoming mad with grief. "_How had this gone so far?" _She thought to herself. "_Everyone knew dragons were man killers, and despite their beastly guest's intelligence, wealth, castle and fame as the Knights Inn Fertilizer Dragon, she and Harold could be sending their daughter to a horrible death. What kind of parents were they, to risk killing their daughter just so she would not turn into a ogress at night. Was it really so bad? Was it something to risk their daughter's happiness, it was certain, but possibly her very life by giving her to a dangerous animal? Oh why did they let that smooth talking Dama Fortuna talk them into this? Was she really trying to help them and her little girl, or was this just a scheme to see her own son marry their daughter and become king? If it hadn't been for the curse, Dama's Fortuna's boy would never be considered. Fiona would be married off to one of the true, noble-born sons of another powerful kingdom, to cement political alliances. __Marrying the Fairy Godmother's son brought no good at all to the Kingdom, but how could they marry their daughter off to another Royal, if she turned into an ogress every night?_

The little princess had been held back out of earshot by the Nanny but had broken away from her and went to her parents. " Mommy, Daddy, this doesn't seem right to me. You keep telling me the dragon who's coming to get me is a nice dragon, but none of the dragons in my stories are nice. They would eat the princess if the handsome prince didn't rescue her."

Lillian forced an uneasy smile and replied, "But dear, you know that everything in the storybooks isn't true. They also say ogresses aren't nice, but at nights when, when you change, you are still nice".

"Yes, but I'm only an ogress half the time, and the dragon is a dragon all of the time," the little princess replied.

The Queen took up a harsher tone and said, "Now Fiona, we have talked about this so many times. You know we would never make you stay with a mean, dangerous wild dragon. This dragon is just like a person. She lives in a big castle, not a cave like those wild dragons in your stories. And she is very rich, she can talk, and she wears makeup, just like a proper human lady".

Fiona remained unconvinced and said, "But if she is so nice, why would the handsome prince have to kill her?"

Lillian reverted to a calmer, sweeter voic again, "Well, I'm not sure that has to happen dear. I think this good dragon will know when your true love arrives, and she will surrender you to him once he proves his bravery. She may even swear fealty to the prince and serve him, and fly you both back here on her back. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

Fiona scowled again, stuck out her lower lip and said, "But that's not how it's supposed to happen in the stories".

Lillian sighed, "No dear, it's not, but remember you are not quite the same as those princesses in the stories. The dragon isn't really stealing you, we asked her to do this. You are not going to be in a cave, like where the mean, wild, storybook dragons live, but in a wonderful castle, with a well-bred and very lady-like dragon. She will even make you do your studies, and who else in the world can say they have a real fire breathing dragon for a nanny?" She pinched her daughter's cheek and tried to force a smile. "You so much enjoy the adventure stories my little lovely. And what could be a greater adventure than this?" she said, trying to hide her tears. "Remember dear, this is the only way we can ever break the curse so you will never change into an ogress again. And that is what we all want."

It was twelve Noon, and the bells in the clock tower in the town square below began to toll. It was time to meet the dragon.

Harold, Lillian, and Fiona vainly combed the sky trying to see the creature, but their concentration was interrupted by the sound of clanking armor, and each of the two doorways leading from the palace to the terrace seemed to be filled with files of the elite palace guards.

Lillian scowled at the King and said, "Harold, why are they here? Do you want to risk angering the dragon an get us all killed? Dama told us that they cannot fight it."

"Maybe God will help us. I don't know." Harold said in his apprehension. And he thought to himself, "_I have to do something_".

Wait, what is that sound? Lillian questioned.

Fiona tried to say something, but was stilled by her father, who just said, " Listen."

There it was again, _whump, whump whump_, a rhythmic sound that repeated itself about every five seconds. Then Lillian fearfully said, "Is that screaming?"

Harold held Lillian close. _Whump, whump, whump_, it was getting louder, and they strained their eyes in the direction the sound came from but still they saw nothing. But now they all heard the screams, terrible screams coming from the same direction as the strange whumping sounds. Fiona saw it first and pointed down below where the main street of the walled city opened into the town square. A team of six terrified horses pulling a beer wagon entered the square at breakneck speed, and swerving to avoid the fountain, it careened and capsized, causing a dozen full barrels to sail off and crash into the street, two hitting the side of the fountain with great force, and had exploded in a haze of amber mist and ivory froth. For the others the shaking caused their bungs to pop, and geysers of fermented drink spewed high into the sky.

And now people began to appear, it seemed like hundreds, all screaming and running, trying to escape whatever was making that ominous sound. Leather-shod shoes, never designed for foot races hit the beer soaked, polished cobblestones and slipped, and those behind the fallen tripped over the first, and in moments, the square was filled with running and falling, and prostrate humans.

"Dragon!" Fiona screamed, as a huge pinkish red head emerged into the square, just below the rooftops of the buildings. They had not seen the dragon because it had flown low down the main street of the city. The newspapers accounts would later report, _"That the diabolical_ _beast had flown low over the street to cause terror_", but the truth of the matter was that Dragon was simply window shopping, flying slow and low enough to admire all the beautiful dresses and gift items for the street she selected to fly down boasted the most fashionable shops in the Kingdom of Far, Far, Away.

In the moment it took for Lillian to hug and calm her daughter, the full body of the dragon had entered the square. It seemed to stall for a moment as if getting its bearings, turned slightly and then headed straight for them. "My God, Harold, look how big it is!" Lillian gasped..

Lillian thought the horrifying scene below looked like something out of one of the macabre _Last Judgment_ paintings that decorated the City Cathedral to frighten the congregation into being good Christians. The geysers of beer spewing from the agitated barrels seemed like steam venting from the depths of Hell, and the only thing missing were the swan-winged angels herding the masses of terrified sinners into the smoking throat of the scarlet _Hell Dragon_. "_Is that it then, is that it_?" she wondered, "_Is the dragon's_ _coming an act of heavenly retribution to punish us?_

Dragon was oblivious to the havoc she had caused, for she had grown quite used to the consternation caused whenever she visited a human settlement. So far it had been a splendid day, with beautiful weather, a substantial, albeit hurried breakfast with the soldiers, interesting shops, lovely dresses and now she would pay her respects to Good King Harold, Beautiful Queen Lillian, and the Lovely, But Tragic, Little Princess Fiona.

Dama Fortuna's directions were excellent, Dragon mused, and her superb eyesight instantly picked out the Royal Family waiting on the terrace. "_Odd though_, she thought, "_for no one else was there, no ladies in waiting, pages, courtiers, not even the Fairy Godmother"._

In another two wing beats Dragon's massive shadow swept over the three humans, for the Nanny had ran terrified back into the palace. Before she even hit the ground two files of armored soldiers poured from the palace from the two flanking doorways.

"Harold, no!", Lillian cried, "Send them away!".

But it would have done no good, for what loyal guards, sworn to protect them with their lives, would not try to save their royal family from an imminent attack from so horrible a monster? The King had kept his word to Dama Fortuna, and only he, Lillian and Fiona knew the dragon was coming. The servants were only that Fiona had to be ready for a trip. But he felt he had to do something, so he had ordered a dozen men to stand by in the palace just in case the dragon turned vicious, and now here it was, fiendishly terrorzing the poor citizens, or so the scene below them seemed. He wondered, "_Would they all be killed now for what the dragon would presume was treachery?_"

No sooner than she had landed, Dragon spun around and despite her great girth, nimbly assumed a fighting stance in front of the Royal Family, protecting them from what she thought were the _treacherous knights. "The Fairy Godmother had warned me this might happen"_, she thought, and then grinned in anticipation. The dozen guards bravely swarmed around her like angry ants, and did just about as much good. The only part of Dragon's body they could even reach were here massive legs, and none could get close enough to strike even these with their swords before she simply plucked up the nearest one, shook him to disarm him, and like shucking a peanut, nimbly pulled the breastplate from the back plate, flipped off the helmet, and unceremoniously dumped the man into her throat as if swallowing a raw oyster. Lillian and Fiona both screamed at the sight and the Queen buried her daughter's face in her breast, knocking off the girl's pointed headdress. Those men who tried to get around the dragon to defend the family were the first to be seized, disarmed and eaten. If she turned left to snatch a man, the file on the right tried to get around her, and like a boa constrictor, here tail would coil around one and the rest would retreat. It would all have been over so much quicker if she snatched them up with her terrible jaws, besides her tail and taloned paws, but she knew it would smudge her so carefully applied lipstick, and she so much wanted to look her best when presenting herself to the King and Queen. Besides, it only seemed like a dozen or so.

Dragon realized she was no doubt causing the King and Queen great annoyance having to wait on her, so she tried to speed things up. Now she simply snatched men up left and right and tossed them into her maw. Some were swallowed armor and all, (something she would have to deal with later), but most, she could effectively de-armor with her prehensile tongue, and spit the armor out like just so many watermelon seeds. She thought she had eaten nine, when the last three realized the futility of their quest and prudently fled back into the palace.

Her work done, Dragon turned and took the few steps to stand before the King and Queen. To her dismay they were not even looking at her, they just stood holding each other, eyes closed and sobbing, and unknown to her, waiting for the terrible jaws to descend on them and swallow them up as well. The great reptile smiled knowingly and knew they were obviously weeping with joy that she had so valiantly saved the princess from the treacherous knights.

She had rehearsed this for a week now, training in front of her mirror in the treasure room, comparing her pose with that of a high lady in Dama Fortuna's _The Ladies's Book of Etiquette_. She carefully assumed the proper position her snout just in front of the terrified trio, blowing humid, fetid air over them.

They all felt the hot, damp breath and knew it wouldn't be long before they also felt the cruelly sharp, white teeth. But nothing happend, and Dragon could not hold her lady-like curtsy for too much longer.

First they heard kind of a gurgling grunt, and thought this was the end, and all blinked their eyes even tighter, if that were possible. And then a strange, high, barely discernible voice seemed to be calling them by name. "Mmmmmmmmmm, Good King Harold and Beautiful Queen Lillian, it is I, Gorgeousapteryx the Lovely Winged, Mistress of Castle Dragon's Keep, your humble servant and the rescuer of the Lovely But Tragic Princess Fiona from the wicked knights, humbly bows before you and requests your favor."

Lillian whispered to her husband, "My God, Harold, I think it is speaking to us."

Harold answeredalso in a whisper, "Yes Dear, I heard it too. Don't panic, just slowly turn around, look at it, smile, and try not to faint."

The tight knot of humanity slowly unfolded and the King and Queen turned to face their daughter's rescuer, as the dragon had so quaintly put it.

It was unnerving to have the huge, tooth filled maw so close the their faces, and what looked like a soldier's boot stuck between its teeth. Harold tried to regain is composure, and with as king-like a voice he could muster, he said, " Um, rise great and good dragon, Gorgafatryx the Insat-".

Lillian seemed even more composed and corrected Harold, "You mean Gorgeousapterex the Lovely Winged", she remembered the dragon saying, and the Queen forced a nevous smile, returned a similar bow, nudging Harold so he would do the same.

"Um, yes," Harold said, "We give you our hearfelt thanks for defending our daughter from the, um, wicked knights."

Dragon fluttered her eyelids in grattitude, craned her head even closer to them to speak, and accidently released a horibly loud _buuuuuurrrrp_ that nearly blew them over. Her tiny voice murmured a very apologetic, "Pardon me your Majesty", then she licked her lips and cast a hungry eye back towards the palace, and said. "Would Good King Harold and Beautiful Queen Lillian wish me to continue punishing the wicked knights for I still fear for your safety?

Harold repied with a resounding "No!", and in a more controlled voice, now smoothly lied, " No, good and noble dragon you have done quite enough. I am sure my loyal guards have now apprehended them and they will be justly punished.".

Dragon's face flashed recognition from something the Fairy Godmother had told her, and replied hopefully, "Then would the Good King Harold wish me to officially execute the prisoners in my uniquely dragonish way?" And she licked her lips again in anticipation.

Harold was taken aback by the morbid request, being said in such a sweet and tiny effeminate voice, but then considered the voices' source, and that this talk of official executions could have something to do with Dama Fortuna's evidently monstrous promises made to the beast.

"No, good and loyal dragon, these things require lengthy trials and I know you will want to get the Princess safetly home to your castle as soon as possible". The moment he had said it, Harold bit his tongue, hoping the monster might have forgotten her original purpose after sating its hunger, but knew that was wishful thinking.

"Yessssssss", hissed Dragon softly, "I have not been introduced yet to the Lovely, Yet Tragic Princess Fiona".

As if on cue, Lillian gently pried Fiona from the vicelike grip she had on her mother's leg, and turned her around to meet her future protector that she had not gazed upon since the moment it had swallowed the first guard.

Dragon had spent considerable time searching for a nice, complementary thing to say when she would first meet the Lovely Yet Tragic Princess Fiona whom she would spend so much time with in the coming years. She found what seemed to be a very nice expression in one of her Woman's magazines and had carefully memorized it.

Lillian thrust the terrified child in front of the dragon, who accordingly brought her head close to the princess so her tiny voice could be heard. Dragon genuinely thought the Princess was adorable and far more so than any of her porcelain dolls. The reptile split a huge grin of pleasure, exposing the batteries of murderously sharp teeth, and thrust a sharp, taloned digit to the child's throat, to tickle her under the her chin in the traditional human way, though unfortuantely this was not immediately discerned by the three humans. Then she said her long rehearsed line in her odd little voice hissed directly into the child's face, "You're so cute I could just eat you up, yesssss, I could just eat you up."

Dragon heard a sharp shriek and was not sure if it was either the Beautiful Queen Lillian or the Lovely Yet Tragic Princess Fiona, but unfortunately both had fainted for reasons that were not immediately clear to the perplexed reptile.

Harold knew what he had to do, for soon more guards would arrive, and the town square was filled with people looking up at them and wondering what horror the dragon was up to on the palace terrace. "Good and noble dragon, I apologize for the distress of the Queen and Princess, but the attack of the um, _wicked knights_ was just too taraumatic for them. Please take Fiona now, and be on your way for I know you have a long trip back." Then he remembered the trunk, "And if you can manage it, that trunk is packed with some of Fiona's belongings. Please take it with you if you can manage. It has been a pleasure to meet you, um, Gorga... er Madame. Perhaps we will come for a visit, but we will write first, of course." And he dared to finish with with as authoritive voice he could muster, "Your audience is concluded", closed his eyes, and hoped he wouldn't be eaten.

Dragon was a bit surprised by the turn of events, and the rather abrupt conclusion of her audience with the Good King Harold and the Beautiful Queen. She had envisioned receiving a tour of the palace, and expected to be invited to stay for dinner, but in a way, the dinner part had handily been accomplished. She would have liked to demonstrate her prowess as future Royal Executioner (and Princess Watcher), but she believed the opportune elimination of the _wicked knights_ should be an adequate show of her efficiency in such matters. So with the royal dismissal, Dragon curtsied again to the King, wound her tail around the large trunk, gingerly picked up the unconscious princess, and her conical princess hat, and leaped into the air.

Immediately the town square was filled with shrieks and screams as the mass of humanity pointed at the terrifying airborne creature. "Look, the dragon has stolen the Princess", some said. And others added, "That huge chest must be the Crown Jewels, the greedy monster has taken those too".

The Fairy Godmother hovered in the shadows of the palace's central gable, looking not too unlike the row of devilish gargoyles perched beside her, right down to their demonic grins. She had been there watching the entire time._ "Perfect",_ she said to herself_, "Absolutely perfect. When all the kingdoms hear about such a perfidious act committed by a dragon against a helpless young princess, the best and brightest knights and princes all over the known world will let their ridiculous notions of Chivalry transform them into dragon dung. No knight or noble of any quality will be left when my son becomes king, only the weaklings and cowards, and I know how to deal with them."_

She knew that Dragon as well as the King and Queen wished she would have attended the Royal Audience, but it was better this way. No one could connect her with the dragon now, but the King and Queen, and they could never admit they willingly turned their daughter over this bloodthirsty monster.

Lillian regained consciousness immediately after Dragon leaped into the sky, the cool air from the flapping wings reviving her. She was immensely relieved that the dragon had not eaten Fiona, as she had imagined, but wept openly as she watched the winged reptile leave with her daughter clutched close to her knight-bloated belly.

Harold turned to her and sullenly said, "Well Dear, we did it. We gave our only daughter to a dragon, and may God have mercy on our souls."

Lillian sniffed, and dried her eyese with the skirt of her dress. She said, "Can't you think of anything positive to say at a time like this, Harold?"

"King Harold surveyed the scene of carnage all around him. He strolled about the terrace avoiding pools of dragon drool and used the toe of his gilded shoe to probe the piles of empty armor that were all that remained of his bravest knights. As he walked back towards Lillian he spied the _Better Castles and Gardens _magazine underneath the broken table, still open to the article about _Dragon's Best Fertilizer _and a positive thing to say suddenly came to him, so he said to her, "Well Lillian, considering how well the dragon is eating, I would suppose that your order of her fertilizer should be filled rather quickly now."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7: Fiona's Welcome to Dragon's Keep**

A bright beam of sunlight pierced the grim battlements of the highest tower in the ruined castle known as the Dragon's Keep. The light warmed the face of the little princess who jack knifed up from her sheets with a start, dreaming the heat was from the awful breath of the terrible dragon leering over her.

She was actually quite relieved to find out she was still alive, for the last firm memory she had was of her own mother pulling her from her body where she clung desperately in fear, and thrusting her in front of a horrifying man-eating dragon that she had watched swallow a knight alive. The beast breathed its stinking breath on her, flashed its sharp teeth, put a claw to her neck and said in a strangely child-like voice that it was going to eat her. Then she blacked out, and the next thing she remembered was pitch blackness and being unable to move. She knew the beast was true to its word and had apparently swallowed her just as it did the all her father's knights that tried to save her, for their screams had stopped and they had all disappeared when she finally opened her eyes again. Then she thought the dragon had swallowed her too, for it was dark, she couldn't move because it was so tight, she heard its huge heart beating, and worst of all, she heard the faint cries of the knights somewhere deeper in the monster's belly. Then the screams ominously stopped and were replaced by ghastly gurgling noises. And it went on, hour after hour, the stomach noises and the huge heartbeat, she thought she must already be dead for surely there could not be so much air in that place, and it was apparent the knights were all dead and digesting away. She could only imagine she was stuck in the beast's throat, and at any moment she would become unstuck and slide down to a horrible doom.

But she opened her eyes to discover the creature was nowhere to be seen, and that she was in a room that was oddly familiar to her yet very different all the same. She found herself in an antique canopy bed fit for a princess, and similar appropriate furnishings all around the cylindrical chamber. She had another small fright when she thought the bed was occupied another little girl who was stiff and cold, but it was only a large but quite realistic doll. And then there was another sitting on a chair, and yet another on top of her own trunk of belongings that she realized the dragon had somehow carried back from the palace. The dolls all looked very old and creepily realistic. Could they belong to the horrible monster that devoured her father's soldiers? The creature her parents assured her was a _nice dragon_?

She felt her hair, and sniffed the dress she wore, the identical fancy one her mother picked for her to wear to greet the dragon. No, she couldn't have been swallowed or she would be covered with gunk and smell like the disgusting creature's breath. She tried to reconstruct the events that so terrified her. Maybe she fainted, and the dragon just held her close to its body. That's why she could hear its huge heart and stomach so well. Obviously that was what happended because she was still alive and not covered in dragon saliva.

She surveyed the rest of her little kingdom. There was a heavy oaken door on one side of the room, and an arched open window at the other. There was a slightly tarnished and dingy mirror of silver plated brass, a quite large one behind a table full of cosmetic products. She was relieved that there was no sign of the dragon that had apparently placed her in the bed some time the night before, after the horrific day she had endured. All she could remember was after an eternity of screaming and struggling in what she thought was the throat of the dragon, she must have exhausted herself and had fallen into a deep sleep.

What was that odd burning smell, she wondered, and went to the window. Her heart leaped into her throat as she looked down at the 100 foot drop to the ground below, and even further down, perhaps the same distance again was a moat of bubbling lava. She had heard about lava from her tutor only the previous year in her geography lessons, and realized that the castle seemed to be on an island in the crater of a volcano.

"_Am I locked in here?_" She wondered to herself. She pushed on the massive wooden door, but it did not budge. Well, if she was to be locked in the room like a common prisoner (or storybook princess), she wondered if the beast that imprisoned her was cognizant of a proper young lady's sanitary arrangements. In her own palace she had servants who emptied her bedpan every morning, but somehow couldn't imagine the dragon doing this. Did the monster have human servants? She doubted it, after seeing the horrid thing devour her father's soldiers. Despite her parent's reassurances, she expected the ravenous beast to forget about its pledges or promises to guard her, and gobble her up instead at its' first pangs of hunger.

But she would not have long to find out, for she heard that strange, dreadful whumping sound of the dragon's wing beats outside her tower window.

Then the floor trembled as Dragon perched on the crenellated castle wall connected to the tower Princess Fiona was in. Then the room went dark as huge red lips and sharp white teeth filled the arched window. And the lips whispered in that same, peculiar little voice that she last remembered gleefully saying _"I could just eat you up"_. This time it said, "Mmmmmmmm, _Lovely Yet Tragic_ _Princess Fiona_…. are you decent? It's time to come down for breakfast."

Fiona said nothing.

The huge mouth opened again, emitting again, far too small a voice to suit it, that said, "Do answer me dear, or I shall have to peek."

Fiona thought of hiding under the bed, but to do so she would have to get closer to the terrifying mouth that was speaking to her. She backed to the doorway, though knew it was locked. Still she didn't reply to the dragon.

The lips moved again, "Very well dear, I'm going to peek now."

Immediately the room was bathed in light as Dragon pulled her lips back, but the room instantly darkened again wihen her lime green, cat-like eye pressed against the window, staring at her. Fiona felt like a trapped mouse being watched in its hole by a hungry feline.

The slit pupil dilated open as it scanned the room; its movement froze as it seemed to fix on her. After a moment it pulled away, replaced this time by a massive nostril that sucked in air and a few down feathers that had escaped from a hole in an ancient pillow.

Then the terrible mouth appeared again, and said, "My you are a stinky little princess dear. When was the last time you had a bath? "

Fiona's fear of the dragon was now overcome by her indignation. She angrily replied, "How dare you say I stink, you filthy, nasty animal. Your breath smells like a chamber pot, and I imagine it is because all of those poor people and animals you have eaten were so terrified that they crapped in your mouth before you could swallow them."

The room was suddenly bathed in light again, as Dragon jerked her head back in horror to hear such foul words uttered from the lips of what she thought was the sweet and refined, (though slightly stinky), _Lovely Yet Tragic Princess Fiona_.

Fiona grinned in wicked triumph over her hurtful insult, but then the grin turned into a fearful grimace when the window filled with sharp teeth again. It was the first time she heard that little childlike voice in anger, and she hoped she'd never hear it again. "How dare you speak that way to your elders you uncouth little girl" the voice hissed malevolently. And it added, "There are ways of correcting uncouth little girls."

No one had ever called the pampered princess _uncouth_ before, and it encouraged more bravado. "So what are you going to do about it, you flying pig? I know you are not allowed to hurt me. I don't think you can even reach me. I bet you can't even fit your pudgy pig paws through the window or door."

Now the dragon roared, even louder, she thought, than moments before it gobbled up her father's soldiers. She realized she had probably gone too far, but what would the dragon do? Roast her with a jet of fire? How would the beast explain that to her parents? But then again, and she now gave a frightful shudder, she doubted her parents knew the dragon would eat all of her father's knights, but it did, and what could even her father the king do about it?

Bright sunlight filled the room again, for the dragon was no longer at the window. She gave a hopeful little grin and slowly moved towards the window to see if the monster really left. She had driven her nanny and servants away with rude insults, and just like them the dragon was gone. "_Maybe this won't be so bad", _she thought. But then the conical roof of her room seemed to move, and dust began to rain from the rafters. And suddenly the whole roof seemed to fly off of the turret, like the lid on a tea pot, and a huge pinkish red arm reached down and grabbed her. Dragon leaped off the battlements straight towards the moat of bubbling lava, with the princess held outwards as if to break her fall in the red hot molten stone. Fiona screamed at the top of her lungs as they plummeted downwards, but before they began to burn, Dragon leveled off, banked right and flew into the main arched gateway of the castle, which Fiona was now seeing for the first time. It was difficult to take it all in given the dreadful circumstances, but she did notice charred skeletons strewn about, and an enormous pile of gold and jewels, with a dragon shaped impression in the middle. They hit the ground with a thud, and walking only on her hind feet like a human (since she was tightly held in a front paw), Dragon ducked low and entered a room that looked like a kitchen, with rows of huge wine or beer barrels lining a counter where a large butcher's chart hung that showed each of the various cuts of meat, only instead of a cow, it was a man. But she had no chance to study it further, or see anything else, for that matter, for she was dropped into an enormous iron cauldron filled with uncomfortably cold water. Her butt hit the bottom of the pot hard, and she surfaced gasping, only to see the dragon's smoking mouth about to blast the pot with her fire.

Fiona ducked back underwater just in time to see flames licking all over the surface, and felt the water begin to heat up rapidly. "Maybe the dragon cooked it's food when she was back in her own home, she shuddered, and fearfully wondered if being boiled alive could be worse than being eaten alive.

She was running out of air and had to surface, but fortunately the flames had stopped. She broke the water's surface with a gasp, only to see the dragon sternly gazing down at her. Fiona gasped, chocked, and with tear-filled eyes, looked into the eyes of the dragon and very apologetically said "I'm sorry for what I said, really I am. Pleeeeaaaase don't eat me!"

Dragon said nothing. She had a small cardboard box in one of her clawed paws, and tore the top of it off with a claw on her other paw. Then she began humming and sprinkling a white powder from the box into the pot with one paw, and thrust a large hand carved wooden spoon into the pot with another, and began to briskly stir the mixture in which Fiona was the main ingredient.

Nooooo! Fiona screamed. She looked into the dragon's eyes to plead for mercy, and saw them filled with mirthful glee. Then she realized that the top of the pot was filled with pleasant smelling bubbles and the dragon held the box between two claws for her to read. She saw the smiling face of a kindly old woman emblazoned on the package and read, _"Dama Fortuna's Beauty Bath Crystals, New Jasmine Scented!"_ Then she remembered the dragon telling her that she needed a bath before she enraged the creature with her cruel insults. She began to giggle hesitantly, and was very relieved to see the dragon giggle back in the girlish little voice.

Several minutes later, Dragon spooned Fiona out of her bath and handed her a towel to dry off with and to wrap around her body, for she had taken the dress off in the bath. The dragon had stopped giggling and began to give a lecture.

"Now young lady, so long as you are a guest in my home you will obey my rules. The next time you use foul language I will wash your mouth out with Dama Fortuna's Beauty Soap. You will take a bath once a week and..."

Fiona burst out, "Why that's ridiculous, I have a bath every six months and that's because I'm a Princess. Most people don't..."

Dragon stifled Fiona's speech by gently placing a talon on her lips. "Yes you are a princess, but you also turn into a smelly ogress every night. Yes, I know your secret, that's why your parents sent you here. But even if you were a normal little girl, I am well aware of how infrequently you humans bathe nowadays. Most of you taste terrible for that very reason, but when I was your age the world was a far more civilized place, not the whole world mind you, but in the great civilization known as the Roman Empire. There, even the common folk took baths every single day. There were huge bathhouses larger than this castle, with hot running water coming out of metal pipes, and people met there to bathe, discuss politics, just visit and to show off their new clothes when they dressed again afterwards."

Fiona was incredulous. She sassed back, "No one ever took a bath every day, they'd have to be crazy".

Dragon replied indignantly, "Well, I take a bath every day, for there is a nice hot spring close by, heated by the same lava that surrounds my castle. Maybe we will take baths together there, just like sisters."

The Princess was about to reply with an insulting remark, but thought the better of it.

Dragon seemed disappointed that Fiona did not give an affirmative response, and said, "But maybe you like almost being boiled in my old stewpot." Then she hooked a large basket with a talon and plopped it in front of the princess. "This food is from Knight's Inn, the proprietor is my tenant, as was his family for centuries. The Inn's food is excellent and highly recommended by the most discerning gourmets, even Frodor's says so. In fact, many famous knights and adventurers had enjoyed their last meals there before ..." and then Dragon realized this might be an off-color remark to a human, and hurriedly added, "and if you are good we shall sometimes go there and have a nice hot dinner, but for now you will find a nice breakfast, lunch and dinner all packed in your basket. Mrs. Muldoon will have a new basket packed for you every morning. You can heat your meals yourself or ask me to do it. When I am here you can roam the castle, but when I am away, or at night, or if there are visitors we must lock you in your tower for your own protection. I can smell visitors, or you, a mile away so I will always know when people are coming or if you try to leave. _Never_ leave Dragon's Keep without my permission. The bridge over the lava is very dangerous and you shall be severely punished if you break my rules. Now take your basket to your room, eat your breakfast, and come back down in an hour with one of your play dresses on, so we can perform our morning hygiene."

Fiona glumly nodded, and began to say, "Where do I go when I have to..."

Dragon replied, "One of my dolls is sitting on a silk pillow close by your window. Under the pillow you will find a hole, straight down to the lava below. You are a little princess but I don't believe it is so large that you'll fall through". Dragon then turned over large hourglass on the counter, "There, you have exactly one hour, now go straight through the hallway past my treasure horde and you'll see the spiral staircase going up to your room. Hurry now, and don't make me have to come up and get you".

Fiona hurried out with her basket, found the winding staircase and trudged up the 183 steps to her room. She unlocked the tower door with the key in the lock, pushed the heavy door open, located her toilet, dressed in one of the play dresses packed in the trunk, wolfed down two hard-boiled eggs and a biscuit, (for she was quite famished), and hurried back down to the dragon.

She entered the great hall from the staircase panting from her exertions, and found Dragon reposing belly down on her pile of gold, with her long neck stretched out and her head next to a large wooden barrel. A strong mint odor pervaded the huge room, and as Fiona came closer she could see that the dragon had stove in the top of the barrel with her sharp talons.

"Look dear", the dragon's tiny voice happily chirped. "I found a whole wagon load of wonderful things left for us by the footbridge by Dama Fortuna. It must have been delivered while I was away yesterday to bring you here. She must have sent it right after we had our meeting as week ago to have arrived so soon."

Fiona had no idea what the Dragon was talking about, and could only say, "Who is Dama Fortuna?"

"Why she is a mutual friend of both your parents and me. That's why I was asked to take care of you my dear", the reptile cheerfully replied. "There's her picture, its on all of her products."

Plastered on the wooden barrel was a large paper label with the likeness of the same attractove. but middle-aged matron that appeared on the bubble bath box. It read, _Dama Fortuna's Minty-Fresh Mouth Wash, _and on the line below, _Bulk Commercial Export Size - Fifty Gallons - Not For Resale_.

Dragon continued, but now in a sterner tone, "Now take that bucket and fill it with the mouth wash, dear. Get the mop, step inside my mouth and you are to scrub every inch as hard as you can, top, bottom, and my tongue as well. And after this we must polish our teeth." and she nodded to a big wooden tray filled with brushes and scouring powder. "We girls must keep our appearances up, and it will be so much fun doing it together every day."

And then Dragon opened wide her huge, foul smelling mouth and beckoned the princess in with the curling tip of her thick pink tongue caked with crusty, yellowish white plaque. Just beyond, the yawning black cave of a throat grimly reminded her of the possible consequences of disobeying the reptile's orders.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8: Dragon and the Lawyers**

In the fortnight that Princess Fiona was getting acquainted with the dragon into whose custody she would spend the next several years, word had spread like wildfire throughout all the known kingdoms of the treacherous abduction of the poor child by the same said cold-blooded monster. Avenging the lovely yet tragic princess, as well as the prestige and expected financial benefits such and act would bring, was on the lips of every knight and noble throughout all the known world. And while King Harold refused to make a formal proclamation offering his kingdom to the man who saved his daughter, every noble fortune seeker could read between the lines. Fiona was his only child, and it was only to be expected that whoever slew the foul beast would have the eternal gratitude of the Princess, King and Queen, marry the former, and with her, inherit the kingdom. Was there ever an easier way to first become prince, and eventually king of the largest kingdom in the land, no less? This of course, was Dama Fortuna's plan all along, to insure her son, Prince Charming would marry the Princess, and become King of Far, Far, Away. But Charming (who technically was not a prince), was far too young to convincingly fight the dragon, (a dragon that had been already paid off to surrender the princess to him and him alone), a trump card none of the other potential contenders could claim or know.

_Frodor's Guide to Monsters and Monster-Slaying Equipment _became an instant best seller, and knights and nobles in all the known kingdoms were preparing their expeditions to descend on Dragon's Keep, with the aim of slaying the dragon, and reaping their just rewards. Interestingly, most of these knights and princes were far more concerned that they would have the first opportunity to slay the monster, than worrying themselves over the actual slaying part. It seemed to most of them, anyway, that the slaying should be handily accomplished by any self-respecting knight. After all, the knights and princes in the fairytale stories always got their dragon. So why shouldn't they?

Most of them had never even seen a dragon, or if they had, only one flying high in the air, and the true size of a full grown one few had ever ascertained. And worse, those dragons depicted in religious art or story books were usually much smaller than the real thing, and therefore it seemed they were far less formidable than they really were. In fact, one of the reasons Dragon so loathed knights was that all the human illustrations depicted them killing what could only be considered baby dragons. She knew of course that dragon parents would never let their children fall into the clutches of murderous human knights, but just the thought of humans painting religious icons or book illustrations of supposedly human heroes slaying these innocent baby dragons was utterly repulsive and demanded retribution whenever she encountered a knight.

With so many knights announcing in the papers and in church congregations of their intentions to rescue the princess, arguments arose over who would have the honor. Why should a knight in one of the far flung kingdoms who had only heard of the dragon's foul deed long after the act, not be given the same chance to slay the creature as those who first heard of the news? Was this noble act to degrade into a common race, with the scoundrel having the fastest horse reaping the victory? Such were the newspaper editorials, and there were even threats of war if certain princes in faraway kingdoms who had just learned of the foul deed were not given a fair and equal chance to slay the foul creature.

Always committed to provide the known world with wholesome entertainment, (and to make a handsome profit to boot), _The_ _Intra-Kingdom Tournament Association _declared they would sponsor a competition that would become officially known as the Princess Fiona Redemption Tournament, though more commonly referred to as _Slayer-Fest_, in which all knights, princes and nobles of good standing could enter the lists and vie for the honor of fighting the dragon in the order of their standings in the tournament. It was announced that negotiations had been made with the dragon, who agreed to cooperate, and that it was agreed that _Slayer-Fest_ would be held on the ideally situated area of sandy flat ground between Knight's Inn and Dragon's Keep, so the proceedings could be witnessed by the Princess herself.

Dragon was absolutely thrilled with the idea when it was poised to her by her a few days earlier by her usual human spokesman, Muldoon of Knight's Inn, as had been his father, grandfather and great grandfathers of several generations . It was only three weeks after Fiona's abduction (or _rescue_ from Dragon's perspective), that the familiar Muldoon called on Dragon in her home with a colorfully dressed man in Herald's livery named Montague who was the official, Chief Herald of the I.T.A. Also in tow were several scribes and lawyers in the long black gowns of their professions, representing both the Association, and the familiar Felix Katzenberg of the formidable and respected law firm of Katzenberg and Associates that had looked after Dragon's financial interests for over a century. And while lawyers and princess-stealing dragons may seem strange bedfellows, such was really not the case. For in this era it was common for nobles to capture and hold for ransom other nobles. And formal challenges to combat were commonplace and expected to be honored, and technically this is what this tournament amounted to, formal challenges not by the usual lone knight, by now dozens of them to fight the dragon who held the princess Fiona. Dragon did not have to accept, for she was bound by no chivalric code like a noble human, but on the other hand, she was not some wild, cave dwelling troglodyte of a dragon. She was the owner of a substantial, albeit rundown castle, and a well-known celebrity to boot, if not known in human circles by her ancient and honorable name of _Gorgeousapteryx the Beautifully Winged_, then simply as the _Knight's Inn Fertilizer Dragon. _whose smiling caricature on the colorful, fifty pound bags of her _product_, was as well known throughout the kingdoms as Dama Fortuna's face was on her cosmetics and magic potions. And while other dragons might ridicule Gorgeousapteryx for this crass commercialism, in reality it made her the best known dragon in all the known world, and the first dragon every foolish young knight or adventurerer thought to slay, (though the great write up of Knight'sDragon's Inn in Frodor's was also a contributing factor.) But the real reason Dragon obliged every knight who wished to fight were was that she was simply addicted to eating people in general and knights in particular.

Countless noble knights had already met their fates at the hands, or rather, in the belly of the enormous pinkish red dragon in just such formal challenges, for this was the expected mode in which a proper gentleman schooled in the manners of Chivalry would go about such things. Many a time Muldoon of Knight's Inn, and previously his father, and even earlier his father's father and so on, would be asked, (and handsomely tipped), by a questing knight after a lavish, (though unbeknownst last) meal, to issue a formal challenge on his behalf to the dragon, announcing a meeting time and place for a duel to the death. While this may seem foolish, there was actually a method to this madness, for it was the fact that the knight was little better than a common peasant foot soldier on the ground, but on his well trained and armored warhorse, he was quite literally the king of battle, virtually invincable against anyone but another knight, or as they were all to fatally discover, a dragon. So many, many times in the past, Dragon had been called out of her castle to fight on the flat sandy plain in front of the keep, though never before in a several week long, holiday extravaganza with her and the Lovely Yet Tragic Princess Fiona as the Guests of Honor. The Fairy Godmother was right, Fiona's presence would bring her many human meals, but no one could have imagined this, she thought.

The average human of the day, steeped in fairy tale legends of dragon slaying knights, generally believed the antogonists were far more evenly matched than they actually were. But what the knights did not discover until it was too late, was that their horses would go mad with fear upon smelling and seeing the dragon, and would either throw the knight on his butt where he would be easy prey, or turn to flee where he would be snatched from behind much as Captain Hieronymous Farquaad and several of his men had only weeks before.

Had the I.T.A. been aware of how many knights Dragon had previously dispatched in formal combat, they may not have been so confident in the scheme they had in mind. But in these days, ficticious romances of heroic dragon slaying knights were far more popular fare than reading perhaps the most common phrase in the knights' section of obituary columns througout all the known kingdoms, _He was reported last seen at the Knight's Inn on his way to fight the terrible red dragon of Dragon's Keep._

Muldoon had assured the Herald and lawyers that they would be in perfect safety so long as they came with him, without weapons and in broad daylight. But Montague was uneasy, and not only because he was entering a dragon's lair. He had arranged tournaments for the I.T.A for over twenty years, and while occasionally the players died, (because jousting was a dangerous sport), this was the first event he would orchestrate in which the specific purpose was to kill the star participant. And even though it was only a murdering, child stealing reptile by his estimation, it was still a sentient creature whose death he was arranging, seemingly with the beast's own compliance. It seemed odd to him that the dragon had been so cooperative to accept combat to the death on human terms, or so the initial correspondence with Muldoon had indicated.

The innkeeper knew exactly where he was going, for he visited Dragon often. In fact it was an appointed _feeding day_, so he led an old milkless cow by a a halter, and tied it to a buttress of the footbridge, and led the party over it, the lawyers sweltering from the lava's heat in their thick black robes. Then they entered the great castle, Muldoon in the lead, nonchalantly strolling through the great hall, whistling and idly stepping over the occasional charred skeleton of a knight or adventurer as if it were no more than an out of place child's toy. Montague and the lawyers eyed the place in wonder, particularly the dragon's bed of gold coins and jewels piled in the middle of the room. Next to it close to a huge fireplace stood a great table, partially burnt from a past battle.

Dragon was just returning from locking Fiona in her tower room, which was her standard procedure any time human strangers visited her castle. This was not only for Fiona's _safety_, as Dragon envisioned it, but it also avoided her witnessing the usually amiable carnivore's sometimes unpleasant eating habits on those occasions when, (usually due to human treachery), turned what had been intended to be a pleasant social call into a reptilian feeding frenzy.

One of Fiona's new duties was making tea for guests, something Dragon could do, but it was not easy for her to fill tiny, human sized kettles. So the princess had prepared it before retiring to her room in the highest tower. Introductions were made, the visitors helped themselves to tea and sugared biscuits, and things got down to business.

Under normal circumstances, if a knight slew a dragon it was expected that the knight would simply take all of the dragon's wealth as the storybooks implied, though technically lawyers from either side could find no legal precedent for this. In fact, the lack of any case suggested no knight had ever slain a dragon and therefore be able to claim its assets, but humans refused to believe such a thing, and simply attributed lack of any documented dragon slaying simply to poor record keeping in the past. .

The I.T.A. felt confident that one of the knights would eventually kill the creature they were now negotiating so pleasantly with, and they wanted the huge pile of gold and jewels that belonged to her. The unique Dragon's Keep castle also had enormous potential as a theme park. But unless there was some legal documentation established beforehand, there would be an ugly fight for the deceased dragon's wealth. They knew that since none of the participating knights had ever seen the treasure, and therefore had no idea that it even existed, one of the stipulations upon entering the tournament would be that said slayer relinquished all rights to any of the dragon's possessions save for the Princess Fiona, and considering this was equivalent to the eventual kingship of Far, Far, Away, they would happily sign away all rights to an unsubstantiated dragon's treasure hoard or a decrepit castle. Of course, the knight would want the dragon's head as a trophy and this would be part of the winning dragonslayers's prize package, but the I.T.A. Marketing Division was already looking into the possibilities of selling the dragon's meat as a pricey gourmet item, and having her skin made into chic ladies shoes, belts and purses. It was agreed this would never be mentioned to the dragon, of course, for she would be quite dead already, and therefore have nothing to say in the matter.

Montague nervously began the negotiations with a hesitant, "Uh, Mr. Muldoon has informed us that you approve of the general concept of the Princess Fiona Redemtion Tournament, but there is far more to organizing one of these events that may not be apparent to the casual fan. So well, its like this, um, madame dragoness, you see the I.T.A would be investing considerable capital in this event, with programs, booth and bleacher construction, advertising, concessions stands, contracts with the individual knights, and so forth, and we would be liable to great financial loss as well as lawsuits if you decided, um, not to fight, or if um you are, um, _defeated_ very early in the tournament."

Dragon's eyes flashed in anger at what she took to be an insult, and her lips parted to reveal batteries of wickedly sharp teeth, that now sparkled a brilliant white due to Fiona's daily duty of bleaching and polishing them.

Muldoon stood up and quite bravely put a hand on her lip, saying, "Now, now my dear, no insult was intended, they just want to look after their financial interests, just as surely as you will want to look after your own as well," and he gave her a wink no one else could see.

Dragon's snarl turned into a forced smile, and the anger in her eyes subsided to amused interest.

Muldoon turned to the men, and began to take his seat, saying, "Do go on, Mr. Montague, say your piece."

His faced paled by Dragon's anger, the Herald loosened his collar and uneasily said, "Yes, well, um, to protect our huge financial investment incurred in setting up this event, we feel that the um dragoness, should share in the risk of any, um unforeseen circumstances, by legally signing over her um, treasure and property to the I.T.A. in the unfortunate event of her, um, untimely demise as a result of the um aforementioned tournament we are staging for the public benefit. After all, its not like the um, the mistress would be needing it, um, in the event of any tragic and unforeseen circumstances."

There, he said it, the Herald then closed his eyes and gritted his teeth praying he would not be eaten or incinerated, but instead of either, the dragon emitted a curious sound that sounded all the world like a tiny schoolgirl's giggle.

Although she felt comfortable enough speaking to Fiona, Dragon was a bit intimidated by the Herald and the lawyers so she preferred to speak through Muldoon. In her tiny voice she whispered a very long tirade into the Innkeeper's ear. The innkeeper listened, and nodded, smiled and said to Montague, "Well, she sees the logic in your request, and may very well agree to it all legal like and all with the lawyers and the contracts, but by the same token, sir, the Mistress of Dragon's Keep has her own concerns to express to you. First, she owns the land you mean to have your tournament on, and doesn't think your I.T.A. should be getting all the revenues. In the event she _does not _suffer any unforeseen circumstances as you so quaintly put it, she thinks there should be a fifty-fifty split on all royalties earned from the tournament, for after all, she is the star attraction, and there would be no tournament without her. And second, as is the normal tournament custom, the armor and horse of any defeated knight becomes her property, as will be his er, mortal remains, which may not be _exactly_ customary when knights compete against other knights, but certainly is so when dragons, er, compete with knights. And third, considering she is a known celebrity, being the famous _Knight's Inn Fertilizer Dragon_ and all, what assurance does she have that enough knights are going to, um participate for her to take time from her busy schedule to make this a worthwhile, um public appearance?"

Montague and his lawyers conferred a few moments in whispers from the opposite end of the great oak table, and the Herald nervously said, "Um, Madame, the I.T.A. will guarantee to the fifty fifty split in the tournament revenues as you request, as well as a minimum of fifty knights will um, compete against you, if you will sign the legal contract acknowledging that your property and assets be relinquished to the ITA in the event of your um, untimely demise in the course of this wholesome public entertainment. We assume of course, that you will be honor bound to fight every additional knight over the fifty guaranteed, if more qualified knights agree to participate. (He did not say there could be as many as 100 registered participants), for there was just over seventy at the time of their departure from I.T.A headquarters two days earlier.

Dragon's eyes sparkled with delight and she licked her lips in anticipation. She excitedly whispered to Muldoon and he relayed the message to Montague, "The Mistress of Dragon's Keep states that just as surely as her treasure should be given up as a security in the event she fails to engage the prerequisite number of knights, by the same token, an equal monetary security retainer must be brought to the tournament and forfeited to the Mistress Dragoness of Dragon's Keep should the I.T.A. fail to provide a minimum of the same fifty knights, which she feels is the minimum number required to retain her interest in this public appearance."

Both Montague and his lawyers blanched white and engaged in a lengthy whispered conversation.

For the first time Katzenberg spoke up and handed Montague's head lawyer an official looking document. This gentlemen, is a bonafide appraisal of the actual treasure on the floor before you, independently made by the well known assessors, Rothschild and Rothschild thirteen years ago, and I understand a considerable bit of treasure has been acquired since then. Discounting priceless antique weapons and religious artifacts, as well as the real property of Dragon's Keep castle and the lands around it, it is accessed at 1.2 million ducats.

Dragon whispered again into Muldoon's ear, he nodded and then said to the Herald and his lawyers, "But the mistress will graciously place all of this wealth, as well as her property against your retainer of just one million ducats in gold coin, brought in wagons, which the Mistress will physically inspect on the field before commencing the tournament, and the treasure will remain on the field, under guard, for the duration of the tournament..

Katzenberg added, "And the I.T.A must agree in writing to forfeit the entire security retainer should anyone attempt to violate standard tournament rules to um, defeat the Mistress. Since the I.T.A normally provides tournament security at all of these events, this means you will also be responsible for any unauthorized actions that may be directed against the Mistress Dragoness by any human on her grounds during the period of the event."

The Herald and I.T.A lawyers conferred in whispers again, oblivious to the fact Dragon's predator's ears could pick up the slightest sound. With what seemed like great reluctance, Montague removed his herald's hat, stood up, slightly bowed to Dragon, and said, "Begging the Mistress's pardon, but considering that Princess Fiona was um, forcibly removed from her home by your ladyship, we would be reluctant to..."

Katzenburg sensed the next words, and interrupted before Montague could insult, and probably be eaten by Dragon. His smile seemed as predatory as the dragon's when he smoothly said, "No worries Mr. Montague. Your concerns were anticipated and for a set fee of 10 percent of the actual value of the insured amount, our affiliate insurance firm will insure the security deposit brought to the tournment against any, ahem, _dragon-related incident_. In fact we have already prepared the contracts" and he removed an official looking document from an embossed leather satchel, and slid it over to Montague.

"Why that's one-hundred thousand ducats!" Montague said, adopting an outraged air.

Katzenburg quipped back, "Indeed it is, sir, but have you ever tried to take gold away from a dragon?"

Montague retorted, "Well it was never hers to begin with, it is just a security deposit to show our good faith, and we haven't even agreed to do that yet."

Katzenburg's grin transformed into an exagerrated scowl of deepest concern, he shook his head in the negative, bit his lip and said, "Mmmmmmm, I believe the Mistress Dragoness might not see things that way. Of course she understands that in the human world there are lawyers and crontracts, but she tends to take a man at his word. You offered her a minimum of fifty nobles or knights and she agreed. And in all honesty Montague, I think that after she has eaten the tenth one, the remainder are going to rapidly lose interest in trying their luck. And I asssure you sir, our agents are going to insure every knight you feed her...um, I mean, every knight_ that challenges her _in the tournament is an authentic gentleman of noble birth, or the security money you bring will be forfeited to her"

Dragon seemed to eye Montague and his law team with a hungry gleam in her eyes, and the Herald replied uneasily, "N-now of course we will fullfill or agreement to the Mistress Dragoness", and he nodded up to her forcing a smile, "But I must protest your suggestions we would be feeding these noble warriors to um, the Mistress".

Katzenburg resumed his reptilian grin, and said, "Don't play me for a fool Montague. I have crossed swords with your law team before concerning another client and they are quite good. There is no doubt in my mind that they have conned the idiots into signing away their estates if they refuse their engagements."

Flustered, Montgue sheepishly responded, "Well, yes, but...".

Katzenburg cut him off, saying, "I have already punched up some figures Montague, and even after you pay the dragon and our insurance fees, the ITA will still make a handsome profit and that's not even including the property you are bound to confiscate from the cowards who'll refuse to fight."

Montague indignantly replied, "You talk as if they won't have a chance, Katzenburg, why there must be a hundred legends about knights who sl..."

Katzenburg interrupted before Montague dared to use the _S word _in front of the dragon, "Yes Montague, legends, but we are a law firm and we deal with realities, not legends. Now I had my scribe jot out this contract based on what we talked about, and you have the insurance offer already. Now there were just a few other provisions that the Mistriss insisted upon, but they all seem reasonable to me." The lawyer glanced down at the paper Muldoon had handed him and read from it:

"One. Princess Fiona will be given a royal enclosed box of the type you provide the reigning regent at your regular kingdom tournaments, and it will be set up on the Mistress's side of the field, that is, the side closest to Dragon's Keep. This area will remain out of bounds to all I.T.A members and knights on pain of death unless with the explicit permission of the Mistress."

"Two. Challenging knights will only be allowed jousting lances followed by hand weapons of their choice; absolutely no bows or cross bows will be tolerated anywhere on the Mistress's lands on pain of death due to the danger presented to Princess Fiona and the spectators. As you are all aware, these weapons are normally not sanctioned by the I.T.A anyway."

"And three, the Mistress Dragoness will agree to only ten challenges per day...", and here Katzenburg adjusted his reading glasses and looked at the page again,..."um, due to her desire to maintain a trim and ladylike waistline... and prevent any bouts of indigestion that might spoil her performance."

Katzenburg slid the document to Montague, then turned to Muldoon, whispering, "Who wrote those last conditions?"

Dragon overheard, of course, and peeped in her odd, little girl's voice, "I dictated that myself to _The_ _Lovely Yet Tragic Princess Fiona _before you arrived. She is very skilled in writing for a ten year old child. Perhaps I shall have her write my memoirs."

After more consultation with his lawyers, and under the disturbingly hungry looking eyes of Dragon, Montague grudgingly signed first the main contract with it million ducat indemnity clause, (and giving Dragon, if she survived, half the net profits), followed by Dragon's special provisions and lastly, the insurance policy to protect the million ducats brought by the I.T.A. from potential theft by the greedy reptile.

With business concluded, Dragon graciously offered the visitors a tour of her castle, and to _stay for dinner_, which the men politely refused, and all were greatly relieved when they crossed the rickety footbridge over the lake of lava. Katzenburg treated them all to dinner at Knight's Inn in view of the cool one hundred thousand ducats his firm earned for an hour's work, (though a long and arduous journey from, and back to the firm's head office in Far, Far, Away). As he crossed the bridge, he had a pang of shame and regret, possible even for a lawyer, when he realized that he had not even inquired about Princess Fiona. But on the other hand, he had sent a letter to King Harold and Queen Lillian that he would be coming here, and would check on her if they'd like, but oddly, they had a full week before he departed, and they never responded.

As the humans departed, Muldoon alone, turned to give dragon a sly wink, and she gave him one back. Muldoon would get handsome tips from both law firms for his efforts, loads of business at the Knight's Inn due to the tournament, and undoubtedly, very soon he could expect the _Dragon's Best_ fertilizer supply to increase dramatically.

Dragon licked her lips again in anticipation of the coming days ahead, and stretched out on her pile of treasure, imagining how much more comfortable it might feel with a million more shiny, freshly minted golden ducats added to the pile. She imagined many of the new coins might even bear the likenesses of her new friends, _Good King Harold, Beautiful Queen Lillian_, and _The_ _Lovely Yet Tragic_ _Princess Fiona_. And she thought that she too, once she returned in triumph with _Brave Prince Charming_, and _The Lovely But No_ _Longer Tragic Princess Fiona_ on her back, to assume the noble appointment of _Royal Executioner and Princess Watcher_, that she too should be entitled to have her likeness emblazoned on a golden ducat of the Kingdom of Far, Far Away. She would suggest the minting of a brand new coin, a double sized, _dragon ducat_, for she was far too large and grand to be immortalized on a normal sized coin.

_"Humans never change"_, she mused. Her grandfather had once told her that when he was young, most humans all over the world worshiped dragons as gods. They presented them with heaps of treasure and willingly fed them fellow humans as sacrifices, just as they would be honoring her in a few more days. (Of course, she too had often been presented human sacrifices not so long before, but not because they thought her a god, but simply because she was their protector or friendly extortionist depending on ones point of view.) But now it seemed people for the most part automatically thought dragons were evil creatures, seemingly because of their religion, but this didn't make any sense to her.

Her mind drifted to one of her favorite books, an enormous leather bound Bible with script large enough for her to read without a magnifying glass. Of all of her books, this one seemed to honor dragons the most, with many illuminated letters at the headings of chapters in the form of stylized dragons and many dragons carefully painted where they related to a particular story, like God riding on the back of dragon named Cherubim in the book of Psalms, his throne strapped to the creature's back, and many dragons biting and devouring disobedient Israelites, above a chapter in the book of Numbers that described the event. There was that one apparently bad dragon pictured way in the back, red in color just like her, but she dismissed this one as just a silly allegory because no real dragon could have seven heads like that one, and who ever heard of a wicked dragon anyway?

But despite this unjustified animosity towards her kind for something that must simply be a misprint in that most beautiful and famous of books, these humans were going to have a big festival with her as the guest of honor! And just as if dragons were still their gods, it was all arranged with the nice Misters Muldoon and Katzenburg that she will be presented a million ducats in gold for making this personal appearance, just like any important human celebrity, and she would also be treated to a minimum of fifty tasty knights! And last but not least, she knew her special arrangements would insure that _The Lovely yet Tragic Princess Fiona_ would undoubtedly enjoy the festival as well, for it would be named in her honor, and the Princess would see her great skill in eliminating those wicked knights that had threatened her so.

Of course, the princess would have to work doubly hard keeping her Mistress's sharp and beautiful teeth bleached brilliant white for the benefit of so many admirers, and Dragon believed this would be a excellent time to have Fiona give all of her scales a complete hot wax and polishing, working her little fingers to the bones. She hoped the little girl would be able to accomplish so much work in the scant week before the festival would begin.

The one thing she did not quite understand about this festival was why the knights who hated and wanted to kill her, insisted on fighting her one at a time, for it was really no different than being offered willing human sacrifices, (not that they would be any more successful attacking her in a group).

She gave the problem a great deal of thought, and finally concluded that since dragons had been the human's gods for thousands of years in the Stone Age days, these humans of today, deep down inside, _really_ still wanted to give her their gold and feed themselves to her as sacrifices just like in _the good old days _that her grandfather had so fondly recollected. But nobody apparently wanted to actually admit their desire to still honor the dragons because of what must be a misunderstanding about the odd, seven headed dragon pictured in the last chapter of her Bible.

_Yes, that must be it, _she happily concluded.. Maybe the knights really weren't such bad men, and their constant yet futile attempts to attack her was just their sneaky way of becoming a dragon's sacrificial victim without upsetting their church people who would probably think their willing sacrifice was competition with their God, for she remembered reading in her Bible that God also demanded sacrifices, and that in one story the sacrifice was to be the nice young son of a man named Abraham. The story made her mouth water, but curiously, God changed his mind and refused the sacrifice. Was Abraham disappointed? She couldn't remember now, but she promised to herself that she would not disappoint the knights or the thusands of spectators who were coming to watch.

For now it was perfectly clear. The knights were _her _willing sacrifices all along, though from her long experience in these matters, she knew that sometimes even willing sacrifices ocassionally get cold feet at the last minute, (which would explain their usual terrible shrieks of terror and wetting themselves). She realized it was now her duty as a noble dragon not to disappoint a single one of her sacrifices, and resolved to do her best to eat every knight who had signed up for the honor, even if there were so many they made her stomach ache. In fact, she unselfishly resolved to send back that bony, dried up old milk cow that Muldoon had left tied at the bridge for her when he brought the lawyers, and she was now determined to go on a strict diet until the tournament began. She reasoned it was the least she could do, for it would be such a dissapointment to the _leftover_ knights if she became so full that she couldn't consume each and every one. After all, many of the knights would be coming from so far away, and they would even be fighting the first whole week among themselves, she had understood, just for the honor of being the first ones to be eaten by her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9: Negotiations with Lord Farquaad**

Scarcely a week had gone by since the contracts were signed, that the usually tranquil badlands around Dragon's Keep began to hum with human activity. First there was a survey team that marked off the areas for the tournament field, seating, and the choicest places where, (for a modest fee payable to the I.T.A.), vendors could set up booths to sell all manner of foodstuffs and souvenirs for the thousands of expected spectators.

Muldoon was ever present to allay their considerable trepidation to be so near the lair of the terrible dragon. "Ye not be worried about the dragon for she never harms the common folk about these parts, jest the knights and adventurers that come to do her harm", he reassuringly said to them.

Next, a train of horse and ox drawn wagons came, and teams of workers began assembling the same banks of well worn spectator bleachers that were transported and erected at tournaments throughout out all the known kingdoms every year per the schedule of the I.T.A.

Dragon waited until the workers began to arrive, and then like a giddy school girl, she excitedly told the wondering Princess Fiona about the tournament in her honor, pointed out her royal box where she would be allowed to view the tournament, and how no less than fifty knights were coming to fight her, though quite stupidly, the reptile reassured the princess that she would protect her charge from the wicked men.

To Fiona this would be even better than here imagined fairytale rescue, for if the foul dragon was not lying, a veritable army of brave and handsome knights were coming to rescue her. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect something so grand.

But still she was troubled. _Why was the dragon so happy about this? _She wondered. _Didn't the monster realize it was the duty of the brave knight or handsome prince to slay the foul beast? _Then she remembered how easily it was for the dragon to devour her father's own knights. Would that happen here? No of course not, she put it out of her mind. The dragon had to defeat those knights and take her away in order for her true love to rescue her.

Dragon cleverly elected to remain inconspicuous during all of the preliminaries, not wanting to scare of her perspective feast of challengers. Some were already beginning to arrive, she noted, as lavishly decorated pavilions topped by noble banners proclaimed.

In a way, thought the Herald Montague, the dragon's abduction of Princess Fiona, and her agreement to stage and participate in this special event turned out to be a godsend, for the I.T.A. due to the abrupt cancellation of the normally very large and well attended tournament annually held in nearby Duloc on nearly the same dates. Although normally protected by contracts with the ruling nobility, the dukedom of Duloc had recently been usurped by the very same Captain Hieronymous Farquaad whom Dragon had met, and very nearly had breakfast with, if he had been a more substantial entree' on the very day she went out to bring back _the Lovely Yet Tragic Princess Fiona_.

And now the Farquaad had cancelled the Annual Duloc Tournament because he believed it would bring too many unknown knights and potential soldiers disguised as spectators to a land and city he had only recently conquered, and had not yet sought out and eliminated all of those that might oppose his rule.

But because he could impose a tax on all Dulocian vendors, (just as the I.T.A. would get their cut of their revenues for renting the booth space at the tournament), Lord Farquaad happily conceded to allow all musicians, merchants and the like to support the event, as he needed every penny in revenues to build his magnificent new combination palace, keep and cathedral that would tower over the rest of the city, the likes of which never being seen before and would be a lasting monument to his greatness. But now, it was only a wooden scale model that towered above the diminutive Lord himself.

Because none of the usual knights of Duloc had registered for the _Princess Fiona Redemption Tournament_, Montague himself sought, and was given an audience with the new Lord on his way back to the tournament field by Dragon's Keep.. Duloc normally supplied something like two dozen knights to the Tournament Circuit, and the I.T.A. accountants had calculated that most of them should be at _Slayerfest_. And with their attendance came the hefty registration fee all knights had to pay to engage in any tournament, and particularly so in this one, where a victory over the dragon would bring the slayer the hand of a young princess whose father was king of the most powerful kingdom in the land.

Signs of the recent coup were still visible as Montague rode through the streets of Duloc to the palace of the previous lord, where Farquaad had now taken up residence. But even so, the Herald was amazed by the change that had overtaken the place since he was there the year before, to coordinate the previous annual tournament with the former Lord. Examples of Farquaad's personal banner of pale blue and a stylized the letter 'F' in white hung from every gate, and above every tower. Montague scoffed that the new lord was evidently a common soldier who did not even posses a true coat of arms, or this would be displayed on his banner. But the banner was distinctive, and Farquaad had apparently ordered every wooden shutter of every house and business in the city to be painted in the same colors as well, giving the place more the look of a military barracks than a prosperous town. And if that were not enough, the place didn't stink as all towns of the era did, and to Montague's amazement, instead of seeing piles of manure and garbage that was to be expected, every street and alleyway in Duloc was spotlessly clean.

As a page took the Herald's horse, it relieved itself of the remnants of its last meal on the gleaming flagstones in front of the palace. Spectators gawked at Montague in shock, as if he committed the vulgar act himself, and had he not been a person of some importance, and a visitor to the city, he suspected he would have been fined or even flogged for the inopportune desecration his beast had committed. But no sooner had the incident happened, than two workmen ran hellbent to remove the offending pile.

After the usual tedious introductions, Montague offered Lord Farquaad a complimentary royal box as the tournament for he and his retinue. Farquaad asked if it was a very fat, pinkish red dragon that appeared to be wearing false eyelashes and lipstick, and when Montague affirmed, the Herald was quite surprised when Farquaad angrily responded with "I'll not be getting anywhere near that damnable beast, but if anyone succeeds in killing it, inform them that I will pay a handsome price for its head and hide".

Montague smoothly replied, "The dragon's hide as well as the meat are already I.T.A property per contractual agreement, and therefore quite negotiable milord, though the beast's head naturally is entitled to the victorious knight and you will have to obtain it from the said recipient, though the I.T.A. will be happy to..."

Lord Farquaad cut short the Herald's tirade with a snort of derision, sneering, "My, my, you are certainly counting your chickens before they hatch. So do you have a plot to poison the monster instead of defeating it in a proper fight?"

"Why no milord!" retorted Montague in exaggerated outrage.

Farquaad replied, You're a fool Montague. In a fair tournament that creature will kill every man you put before it. What were you thinking of when you came up with this? Taking the dragon's gold no doubt, and believing these witless athletes will make you rich by doing your dirty work? You will only kill it by treachery, to be sure, but I understand that there are humans are looking after the beast's interests, her own lawyers I understand, if I can believe something so absurd, so that will be no easy feat."

"Yes", muttered Montague, "the dragon does have a lawyer, a very good one in fact, Katzenberg and Associates."

"Ah, reptiles of a feather, flock together" chuckled Farquaad. "Well, here is some free advice Herald: midway though the tournament bring up a covered wagon with a high powered catapult inside that can launch a steel shafted spear drenched in deadly poison. Shoot the dragon in the belly when it least expects it."

"Certainly not sir, the I.T.A. could never be party to such treachery, even to an inhuman beast. Our reputation for good sportsmanship and wholesome family entertainment would be destroyed", Montague replied in a voice of contrived indignation. And then added, "Besides, her lawyers insured that we would forfeit a million ducat indemnity clause if any treachery against the dragon occurs during the tournament."

"Oh that is rich", chuckled Farquaad. "They have already won, you fool, and I suspect you will lose your entire stable of knights in the process, and then where will the I.T.A. be without it's entertainers? Mark my words, Herald, without some form of treachery to kill it, the dragon will devour every man you put against it. I have seen it in action, it is a perfect killing machine, and I know a little bit about killing for it has been my profession these many years. Battlefields are a better teacher than the jousting field. I have fought many wars in the south, but never have I risked my life in that ridiculous sport."

Montague thought to himself, _"That is because you are a mere commoner milord and would not be allowed into the lists if you wanted to". _Then abandoning the false pretense of dealing honorably with the dragon, he confided, "But you do know what would happen if the dragon discovered our treachery, if poison failed to kill her, or if the catapult missed or only wounded her? Not to mention losing everything to Katzenburg in a court battle we couldn't win."

"Yes, replied Farquaad, "You would undoubtedly die a horrible death in the beast's jaws. In fact, I would expect every living person there will die except maybe the dragons lawyer, though I wouldn't want to be him either next to a maddened beast. You are playing a high risk game Montague just as I did when I took over this land. I came here with nothing but a desperate band of soldiers and now I am the Lord of Duloc. But what I don't understand is that you were already quite well off, yet now you are now risking everything for a dragon's treasure. Well, we've talked enough. I have no intention to become involved in this, and I will allow none of my men to be engaged in so stupid an enterprise. Sell my complimentary seats to some one else for I will not be coming. Oh, but send me the revenue since the seats are mine as you say. But mind you, Herald, if any of my subjects are killed or if the dragon damages my kingdom due to your harebrained plot to steal its gold, there will be hell to pay. I suspect my army is far stronger than your corporation of clerks and confidence men, and my losses will be replaced, I will take them out of your hide, I assure you. Now good day to you Herald."

Meekly now, Montague chirped, "Begging your pardon, m' Lord, but there is just one other thing."

"What is it, and make it quick?" commanded Farquaad.

"Uh, well m' Lord. While you have made it quite clear that none of your own men will be taking part in the tournament, er, normally a large contingent of the Dulocian knights, and even the former Duke took part in our previous tournaments here and being chivalrous gentlemen I am surprised that none of them had volunteered to rescue the fair Princess Fi..."

Farquaad angrily quipped, "They are not available. Most fought for their Duke against me. A few are now dead, most are in my dungeon, including the former Duke himself, waiting to be ransomed by relatives". And then a delightfully wicked thought crossed his mind. He stood up from his throne-like chair, and ordered, everyone but Thelonious to leave the room, and with that, the half dozen or so scribes, servants and retainers left the room leaving only a grim looking man in an executioner's mask who stood next to the Lord's tall chair.

Farquaad waited until they all left and then said, "My dear Herald. I won't mince words. In our chivalrous world I cannot simply eliminate my potential enemies. And besides, I require their ransoms to finance my new palace. But, but once released, the Duke and his loyal knights will likely contrive to get Duloc back, I have seen this kind of thing happen again and again in the wars in the south lands. Now it is said that dragons are sly beasts, and with an equally sly lawyer to boot, I suspect that your contract states that a certain number of knights must be provided to fight the dragon.

"Well yes milord", said Montague thoughtfully, "I had wondered why the dragon would insist on having so many knights who were sworn to kill her, and have this stated in the contract."

"Montague, you are an idiot", Farquaad declared. "The monster and its lawyer know that after a succession of illustrious knights have been turned into dragon fodder, the rest are not going to care for sharing their fate. And if you do not fulfill your part of the contract you will forfeit the million ducat retainer, am I correct?"

"You are correct, milord, but as part of their registration contracts, every knight has agreed that he will forfeit his land and titles if the dragon is still available to fight, and any refuse the engagement when it is their turn in the lists."

Farquaad shook his head knowingly, "Well you are not quite as stupid as I first imagined Montague, I am sure your accountants have assured you of a fine profit even if the dragon wins, and if a number of knights turn cowards, you stand to gain a great deal confiscating their property. But you will still lose the million ducats if your contracted number of knights fail to um perform, am I not correct?"

"You are correct milord", Montague glumly stated.

Montague cursed himself for giving Lord Farquaad so much information, but he suspected the sly mercenary captain-turned-lord would have already found everything out, perhaps he even had informants in the I.T.A. Conceding defeat, but trying to retain the dignity that his high positioning the I.T.A. deserved, he asked, "Um, how many knights are available milord and what would their ransoms be, not that I do not believe one of the very first champions will slay the dragon, and none this will come to naught."

Farquaad rubbed his chin in mock contemplation and strutted back and forth, fully in command of the situation. "My dear Herald, since this is such a mutually beneficial agreement, I will keep it simple. There are eleven knights plus the Duke, and you can have as many as you need at only 10,000 gold ducats each, including the Duke, providing he is the first to, um, fight the dragon. But it needs to look good, so they do not appear being coerced." And then his gaze met the large, formidable looking man in the executioners mask who had been his efficient body guard and henchman for over a decade in his mercenary company, and now received an additional stipend as the official executioner of Duloc.

Farquaad continued, "And as an added bonus, and entirely free of charge, if you take them all, I will send you my man Thelonious here, who will help convince them it is their noble duty to fight the dragon. He can work wonders with a red hot poker in particularly intimate places no spectator will see. Now your audience is concluded Herald, and should the need arise, I look forward to doing business with you." And with that, Farquaad strode back to the model of the new palace, and happily said to his henchman, "Send back the architect Thelonious for I have changed my mind. I do believe I will soon have enough money to commission that really huge stained glass window that I wanted."

"Duh, yes milord", replied the drooling henchman. "I remember, milord. You told him that you wanted the biggest window in the whole world, a window so large that even a dragon could fly through it, duh..right, milord?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10: Opening Ceremonies of the Princess Fiona Redemption Tournament**

A full week of the preliminary _Tournament of Precedence _went by with no one seeing either the dragon or the ill fated princess, for they were very, very busy making their preperations for the main event. The little girl could here the cheers as one knight bested another on the nearby field, and yearned to watch the brave knights joust among themselves to determine the order in which they would fight the dragon . But she was allowed no chance to see the proceedings, for after her own regimented daily hygiene, as her dragon jailer ordered, Fiona slaved away during all her waking hours waxing and polishing every scale of the enormous monster. And what she hated the most was that the beast pretended they were having so much fun doing these _girl things _together, as the devious reptile claimed. Or was the killer beast actually sincere in her attempts at friendship? It was so confusing.

Fiona imagined the skin of every fingertip had been burned off as she melted block after block of the ruby red sealing wax in a small bronze cauldron, then picking up a gob of the scalding hot stuff on a rag, she rubbed it over each and every scale of the dragon's vast body, one at a time. And once the wax had dried and hardened, she had to buff it to a high sheen with a piece of sheep's wool. After the most exhausting week of her life waxing and buffing the behemoth, she had to crawl around in the frightful and disgusting mouth again for final tooth bleaching and polishing, and to scrub the slimy interior and tongue with _Dama Fortuna's Minty Fresh Mouth_ _Wash_, concocted of chemicals so strong that it made her eyes burn. And for the first time since her kidnapping, she had to paint hot black tar over those ridiculous, fake, forged iron eyelashes because they were starting to rust.

And then one dawn, feeling too tired to crawl out of her bed, she heard Dragon cheerfully whisper through the tower window in her, tiny, melodious voice like a song, "Oh lovely yet tragic Princess Fi-oh-naaaaah, this your big da-aay. Hmmmmmmm? Now hurry up and put on your best princess dress, dear, the one you wore when I first met you and your parents, and don't forget the adorable pointed hat."

There were no chores for her that morning save for a little touch up on the dragon's lipstick. And in turn, Dragon helped Fiona with her own make up, deftly splotching rouge on each cheek with a pad looped to a sharp talon tip better suited for gutting an animal than applying cosmetics. Then Dragon laid her head and neck on the flagstones of the great hall, and said, "Now carefully climb up my neck, and hold on tight, for ladies of our great renown are expected to make a grand entrance, my dear."

Fiona found a barrel shaped helmet among the scattered debris of long deceased knights, and used it as a foot stool to get up on the huge neck. She grimly said, "I think I'm ready", and Dragon loped through the great pillared hall to the main door, and then leaped into the air.

The hot air wafting up from the moat of lava felt comfortable on Fiona's skin on the chilly morning despite its sulphuric stink. Dragon gained altitude, flew over a small rocky ridge, and Fiona gasped at the scene below her. Thousands of people seemed to fill the bleachers that bordered the tournament field. Behind the stands, there was a veritable sea of tents, in every imaginable color, and bearing the banners of the noblest knights in all the known kingdoms. And behind these was a great shanty town of hovels made of pine boughs and blankets where the vast number of peasants resided. " _And they had all come to see my rescue"_, thought the princess, as she gazed down at the tableaux below her.

Actually, if the truth be told. they had mostly all come to see a bloody battle to the death between dragon and knights, just as they always came to the regular tournaments throughout the kingdoms in hopes of seeing deaths and maiming, as surely as they would flock to see criminals burned and beheaded on market days. But this coming spectacle proved to be greater than any bloodbath they had previously witnessed. For what they expected to see this time was something none of them had ever seen before -- a knight slay a dragon, an event described in so many ballads and legends, though not one among them could honestly say they had actually seen it really happen. And this was quite understandable, for in truth, no one indeed had ever seen a man, or even an army of men, ever slay a dragon, for it was only the stuff of fairytales. But if dragons were real, as the spectators could plainly see in the sky above them, then too, shouldn't't the dragon slayers of legend be just as real as well? As they stared up in the sky in dismay with the rest of the awed multitudes, the sixty three knights and nobles who officially registered to fight the monstrous beast certainly _hoped _that slaying dragons was possible, and they all prayed they would be the one to accomplish the deed.

Dragon flew slow and steady for she did not want to risk the princess falling off, but had Fiona slipped, the predator's lightning-like reflexes would have snatched her up before she fell to her death. So today there would be no acrobatics. After circling the field she landed by Fiona's royal box with an earth shaking thud, but instead of dismounting her, Dragon decided to parade once around the entire field on foot, just in front of the crowded bleachers so everyone would get a good close look at her magnificence, and of course the little princess Fiona too, who bravely sat on her back. For after all, the tournament was named in her honor.

Save for a few gasps and stifled screams, the normally raucous crowd was hushed to a reverential silence as they gazed upon so surrealistic a scene. Dragon's freshly waxed and buffed ruby red scales shimmered in the bright morning sun like nothing of this world. Flushed with pleasure by so many admirers, the reptile cracked a wide smile that revealed wickedly sharp teeth almost too white to seem real. And atop the carnivorous monster sat the brave little princess, timidly waving to the sea of admirers who filled the stands.

In one of the best, front row seats of the commoners section, an enormous, bare chested young man with a great beer belly, broke the awed silence by standing up and clapping an ovation to the courage of the little girl atop the fearsome beast. Nick-named Bruno the Bear, he, and his similarly bare chested and beer-bellied comrades were derisively referred to by the I.T.A., (whose events these nonconformists loved to disrupt), as _shirtless tournament hooligans_.

Taking the cue from their leader, the others began clapping, standing and cheering the princess, though Dragon believed the ovations were in her honor, for she perceived she was the rescuer of the princess. And for the entertainment of this legion of admirers, she would now proceed to chastise the hated knights who had foolishly come here to slay her and steal away the child.

Upon completion of the circuit, Dragon stopped at the Princess's royal box, and laid her head and neck low so Fiona could dismount. Muldoon was the only person allowed by Dragon on her side of the field, and he helped the Princess off the scaly neck and up the short flight up steps into the enclosure.

Montague the Herald nodded in approval to no one in particular his approval the dragon's unrehearsed spectacle. He thought to himself, _"Almost a shame we will have to kill her, for that would make a great start up act at all the kingdom tournaments". _

He gave the cue to the fanfare trumpeters to announce his introductory speech, when to the surprise of everyone, a crowd of about thirty, mostly female young people in simple linen shifts and flower garlands around their necks and more in their hair, and apparently shackled to a long chain, formed a line across the middle of the field and sat down in unison. Two of them carried signs, one with the initials "P.E.T.A.R.D.B.B.A.", and the other was emblazoned _Save the Dragons_.

Montague took of his plumed hat and threw it down on the ground in anger. "Damn those bleeding heart animal activists" he shouted. Montague well knew of this group, they previously had gotten the bear baiting halftime shows banned at I.T.A. tournaments, for the initials of the neatly painted sign stood for; _People Enlightened To Adore Really Dangerous But Beautiful Animals. _They were essentially well-to-do city folk who loved predatory beasts like lions and tigers and bears, and apparently even dragons, but in their safe cities never had to confront the animals as did peasant shepherds with their flocks of sheep. They abhorred the nobles who hunted these beasts for sport, and even had the audacity to throw blood on nobles who wore wolf, ermine and mink fur trim on their coats at previous tournaments. Their spokesperson, the wealthy Ms. Melissa Wolvesfriend, (obviously a made up name), had threatened in the papers to stage a sit down protest of the dragon slaying tournament, and true to her word, there she was, the slightly plump, but still very attractive _thirty-something_ woman who now stood on a small stool to address the multitude.

"_Where were the guards when you needed them?"_, muttered Montague in disgust. He knew of course, normally the local kingdom hosting the tournaments supplied the security force, but this tournament was in the middle of nowhere, and the local leader of the region, Lord Faarquad, refused to sponsor the event. In fact, the wiley mercenary captain turned lord had the audacity to sell the P.E.T.A.R.D..B.B.A. activitists a permit to stage their protests, as Montague learned from an aide just then.

"_Well, let her have her say, Montague thought"_, the crowd will boo her and her followers off the field soon enough.

The few commoners who could read, already began to boo, when they saw the _Save the Dragons_ sign, for this lady meant to spoil their entertainment. Some had walked as much as 200 miles to see this spectacle. But their boos and catcalls were hushed by her surprising loud and commanding voice.

"Shame...shame on you all!", she scolded them. "You have come here to watch a beautiful and noble creature be killed in cold blood for your mere entertainment, and you call it sport. What right do any of you have to invade this poor, misunderstood creature's home, camp out in front of its home for days, so you make a spectacle of her slaughter by those baby-killing mercenaries." And she pointed an accusing finger at the assembled knights on their side of the field.

Dragon watched this new development with extreme interest, for beautiful young women with flower garlands and wrapped in chains evoked fond memories of wonderful times past when grateful villages presented her with just such treats in grateful appreciation for not roasting and eating the rest of them.

She had genuinely felt some regrets for the unfortunate misunderstanding concerning the three young sorcerer-apprentices from the future, a few weeks before, who it seemed, may not actually had wanted to be sacrifices. So she decided she would have to be more careful about such things in the future. But there certainly could be no misunderstandings this time, she believed, for now all the classic, telltale signs of a proper maiden sacrifice to a dragon were clearly being exhibited.

After all, they were all young, attractive people, wrapped in chains, wearing flowers, and some even carried signs claiming they adored dragons. And the one standing up, and shouting at the people, was saying what a beautiful and misunderstood creature she was, so she obviously wanted to have the honor of being the first to be eaten, as anyone could plainly see..

Dragon quietly padded forward until she was almost directly behind the unknowing Ms. Wolvesfriend, who was quite happy with her speech because she believed her words had hushed the crowd into awed silence, when in reality, it was an enormous dragon creeping up behind her who had done this.

The famished reptile, who hadn't eaten since the tournament construction began, patiently waited for the woman to say her last words, for this was often part of previous sacrifice ceremonies, but usually this talk was just prayers, and relatively short in duration. Dragon enjoyed the praise, (for after all, dragons were such misunderstood and gentle creatures, just like the lady said), but she just went on and on and on. So she finally decided enough was enough, so she deftly snaked her head right behind the still oblivious woman, who continued to speak, saying, "And although the popular literature states that dragons are maiden eating monsters, just how true are these accusations? Can any of you honestly say you have ever seen a dragon devour a helpless maiden? Of course you haven't. Might this just be cruel lies so knights can justify persecuting these beautiful and quite harmless...".

Dragon's long pink tongue quickly snaked around the woman's waist, and in mid-sentence, pulled her into the eagerly gaping jaws. Ms. Wolvesfriend did not even have a chance to scream as it had happened so quickly. Her barest shout of surprise was quickly stifled when the great maw clapped shut.

For what seemed like a long while to the shocked spectators, (though it was really only for a few moments), Dragon seemed to be rolling the woman around in her mouth, carefully tasting her as a child might suck on a hard rock candy. To the spectators' horror they saw she was very much alive, as evidenced by the muffled shouts of protest, and the sporadic bulges that appeared on dragons cheeks as frantic fists and feet pushed and kicked to escape the fleshy prison. Finally, an audible, ominous gulp was heard, and a still struggling lump rippled down the long dragon neck in peristaltic convulsions, accentuated all the more, as the shifting, highly polished scales reflected the bright morning sunlight.

Gasps of horror, and squeals of terror erupted in the stands, and in the expensive seats where the more genteel ladies reposed, a few even fainted. Dragon did not notice the decidedly unfavorable response to her act, for her full attention was now on the delectable group of remaining sacrifices. But to her immense disappointment, she quickly saw that they were really not tethered by the chain they had wrapped around their bodies, for now it lay empty, and what she had thought were willing sacrifices went running, and screaming from the field

For a moment she considered chasing and snapping up a few of the now reluctant offerings, but then thought it would not be very lady-like to do so in front of all of her admirers. Their initial shock over, everyone watching the field were hushed to silence wondering what would happen next. Bruno the shirtless tournament hooligan was awestruck by the spectacle, as was everyone else. But in a way, he thought, the dragon was something of a hero, for it had decisively ended the problem of the protestors so the show they all wanted to see could go on. He and his fellow hooligans really did not come to these events to see knightly equestrian and combat skills, instead they traveled to every tournament just to brawl with the supporters of the local knights, and hopefully see one get killed or seriously injured, which though a rare occurrence, still occasionally happened in this dangerous sport. If they rooted for any knight, it was always the poorest one. But now here was a new hero that he and his fellow hooligans could give their full support to. For the dragon had already snuffed out an uppity, self-righteous woman who sought to spoil all of their fun, and before the show was over, the beast just might eliminate a few of the despised knights before finally being ignominiously skewered by a jousting lance.

To get everyone's attention, Bruno stepped out into the edge of the field, faced the bleachers of the economy section, and madly clapped and shouted "Hooray for the dragon! Hooray for the dragon!" His fellow shirtless tournament hooligans followed suit, thinking this would be a terrific way to annoy the noble knights that they all hated, for although they were all fairly well off as the sons of merchant and lawyers, they would always be mere peasant in the eyes of the nobility. They stood up in the stands to give the dragon a rousing ovation, and with threats and cajoling, they encouraged all the peasants around them to do the same.

In truth, the peasants needed little encouragement. They also hated the knights and their ladies who were their feudal overlords. Though not as overt as middle class _Shirtless Tournament Hooligans_, they also came to these events in the hope of seeing a despised nobleman getting killed. And already they had seen a spectacle much more entertaining than the usual executions they also flocked to see. But instead of seeing one of their fellow peasants being beheaded, drawn and quartered, or burned at the stake, they had seen a stupid rich lady being eaten alive by a dragon, something quite remarkable that they could fondly tell their grandchildren about, (if a peasant was lucky enough to live that long).

The economy bleachers resounded with shouts of "hooray for the dragon", cheers, and thunderous clapping. Dragon was positively delighted with all of the favorable attention, and just as she had so carefully rehearsed and performed for the good King Harold and his beautiful Queen Lilian, the reptile gave a deep, lady-like curtsy to her admirers. Now the crowd of peasants went wild that this mighty beast would give them such an honor, and besides, they loved performing animals, and while starving themselves, sometimes gave their last crust of bread to the equally emaciated dancing bears that were a common sight on market days.

The knights and nobles in the opposite stands were outraged by the cheers that the peasants gave the cruel monster. Dragon turned around and gave them a similar bow, but to nobles, they thought the beast contemptuous and mocking by her dignified and cultured curtsy as only a noble lady was allowed to make. The reptile next turned to the end of the field where the royal box stood, and gave its only occupant, the lovely yet tragic Princess Fiona a similar curtsy, not noticing the horrified expression on the poor child's face. And lastly, Dragon executed a smart about face, took a deep breath and deftly spat a round, soggy projectile larger than a human head (that was comprised of the unfortunate Ms. Wolvesfriend's dress and flower garland), into the throng of solemn knights waiting to fight her. The giant spit-ball hit one of them squarely in the chest and knocked him down, causing the crowd of peasants to raise the loudest cheers yet, followed by a chorus of raucous laughter, as if they were oblivious to the fact that the creature who was the object of their affection had only moments before, eaten a defenseless woman alive.

Dragon followed the spit-ball attack with a dignified curtsy to her would be slayers, turned her back to them and almost seemed to have taken on a skipping gait, if such a thing I possible for a dragon. She happily loped back to _her_ side of the field where she put her head in Princess Fiona's royal box. Oblivious to the fact the little girl was terrified by the spectacle of her devouring a woman that reminded her of her own mother, Dragon pushed her toothy muzzle so close to Fiona's ear that she could smell the minty fresh mouthwash, as well as the perfume and quite possibly the urine of Ms. Wolvesfreind on the predator's breath. Like a school girl seeking encouragement from a friend at a dance recital, Dragon whispered to Fiona in her tiny, child-like voice with genuine, giddy glee, "Did I not tell you we would have a wonderful time? And hear how the people cheer us and hope we shall win. We mustn't disappoint them now shall we dear? Oh, and from your perspective as a genuine princess, do you think my curtsies were executed in a suitably noble and lady-like fashion?"


End file.
